A Day for Damnation twatc-2

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A Day for Damnation twatc-2 Page 34

by David Gerrold


  Most of the team headed for the doors. I headed for the front of the room. Colonel Tirelli was conferring softly with two of her pilots, so I waited politely to one side. When she finished, she looked up and saw me. "Yes, McCarthy?"

  "May I talk to you privately?"

  Her eyes shaded. "You want to drop out?"

  "No! It's just-"

  "If it's not about the mission tomorrow-"

  "It's something that could affect the mission tomorrow." I said it as pointedly as I could.

  "Mm hm. Wait a minute-" She handed her clipboard to one of her aides and then took me out into the hall, around the corner and into a deserted office. She closed the door behind us and leaned back against a desk, leaving an uncomfortable distance between herself and me. "What is it?" she asked. Her expression was polite, curious-and very very cold.

  I felt myself flushing. "I-I guess this is a personal thing," I started. "But it's really getting to me. I mean, what's going on?"

  She blinked as if she didn't know what I was talking about. "I don't understand."

  "We had a date planned, remember? You and I and the biggest lobster on the west coast, remember? I mean, you said some things in the chopper-and I don't know if that was for serious-or if it was just... well, you know, real casual, or what?"

  Lizard noticed an ink smudge on her palm. She rubbed at it with her thumb. She wasn't looking at me as she remarked, "That's what I like, a question with a lot of certainty in it." She shoved her hands into her pockets and looked up at me. "Listen, McCarthy. Everything I said to you in the chopper was true. You're cute. You're probably fun in bed. And you're also a lieutenant. One thing I know about lieutenants is that they have permanent erections. It's convenient at times. Most of the time it's not. Your problem is that you're trying to think with your erection. Please don't. It wasn't designed for that."

  I stared at her. I wanted to ask, "Who are you really and what have you done with Lizard Tirelli?" Instead, I merely opened my mouth and said, "Is that it-?"

  "For now." She looked at her watch. "Don't you have one more meeting tonight?"

  "I have some kind of counseling session, yeah-"

  "Well, I suggest you get to it." Her expression was impassive. I could see that even being confused would be a waste of time here. I shook my head and stepped past her to the door. Halfway through it, I turned back to her. "This does not make sense to me. And it sure doesn't make me confident about tomorrow."

  "I'm sorry, McCarthy-but that's the way it has to be."

  "Yeah, sure." I closed the door behind me. Colonels! I'd never understand them.

  I found Fletcher back in the meeting room. "Listen, about this counseling session-"

  She shook her head. "I'm not your counselor, James. I have nothing to do with that."

  "Well-listen, I just want to skip it. I don't feel-"

  Fletcher's face hardened. "You do and you don't go tomorrow. You get your ass downstairs, right now!" She turned to one of her assistants. "Jerry--will you escort Lieutenant McCarthy down to the basement? Make sure he gets there."

  I remembered Jerry Larson from Denver. He'd lost some weight and cut his hair; it made him look more intelligent than I remembered.

  He led me down three flights of stairs (it was faster than the elevator), past the holding tanks (four worms), and into the specimen section, through the greenhouse.

  The air smelled overpoweringly sweet. On either side, behind thick glass walls, I could see banks of purple and red plants.

  "See that one?" Larson pointed to a shapeless black bush as tall as a man. Its leaves were ragged and shaggy. Whatever form or structure the plant had was impossible to see; it looked like a big pile of dirty laundry. "That one walks. Very slowly. We call it a shambler. It feeds on carrion. It's probably a scavenger. I don't think it kills-but we've got it isolated just in case."

  "What're these?" I pointed to the opposite side. The plants there were more colorful. Banks of red and yellow blossoms cascaded across the tables.

  "Oh-" said Larson. "We call those mandala vines. You have to look at them close up. You see those blossoms? Each one is made up of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miniature blossoms all clustering together."

  "They're gorgeous-" Even from this side of the glass, I was dazzled. The blossoms were pink and scarlet and purple; but they were speckled with yellow and orange and white.

  "Here-you can see this one a little better." Larson pointed to one of the smaller vines, hanging against the glass.

  He was right. The miniature blossoms were easier to see. They gathered in groups to form clusters. Each little cluster had its own bright pattern of colors, lightest at the center, brightest and gaudiest at the edges.

  Lower down on the vine, I could see how the clusters expanded and gathered around a central one. "I see where it gets its name," I said, grinning. The vines were beautiful; the clusters of clusters formed a dazzling mandala. There was even a sense of a pattern. "How big does it get?"

  Larson shrugged. "We don't know. We haven't got the room to let it grow. I'll tell you this-it drives the bees crazy."

  "Is that its danger?"

  "We don't know. It's here. We're observing it. It's pretty, isn't it?"

  "Yeah, it really is."

  "You should smell its perfume-it smells like all the good things in the world all rolled together. Honeysuckle, fresh bread, the inside of a new car, you name it; it smells different to everybody."

  I followed Larson through two sets of double doors, out of botany and into biology. We moved through a vast white warehouse full of cages and terrariums. The air was full of dark animal smells. I couldn't identify any of them.

  "We discovered something very interesting about the meeps," he said.

  "Meeps-those are the weaselly-looking red-brown things, aren't they?"

  "No, you're thinking of libbits. A meep is a mousy pink furball. Here-these are libbits."

  I looked into a large glass enclosure. The libbit looked like a small polite worm, except it had no eyes, no arms, and only the finest coat of downy brown fur. It was about the size of a mole or a badger. There were four of them in the terrarium.

  "They burrow," said Larson. "They eat small rodents: rats, mice, chipmunks, bunnies and meeps. Here-up here. These are meeps." He pointed at a row of cages.

  "Oh, right-we saw some of those on the chopper windshield. Kinda cute. What about 'em? I bet they breed like crazy, right?"

  Larson shrugged. "We don't know yet. This is what I wanted you to see. We put three of 'em into a cage with a mamma rabbit and her litter. Mamma rabbit rejected her own babies to nurse the meeps instead."

  "You're kidding!"

  "Nope. The same behavior has been repeated with a dozen other rabbits. If the babies are small enough, the meeps will eat them, but they prefer to nurse on Mamma."

  "Yick. I wish you hadn't told me that."

  "Oh, you haven't heard the worst of it. The meeps will nurse a mamma rabbit to death." He added somberly, "And she doesn't appear to object, either. She dies happy."

  We passed out of the specimen section into a storage area; we walked past bags and bags of various animal feeds. The air was fresher here.

  "Listen," I stopped him. "I want to apologize for shooting down your plan. I guess I came on a little strong-"

  "You want to hear my theory about the bunnydogs?" Larson asked. He looked me straight in the eye. "I think they're like the meeps-only for humans. The bunnydogs are so cute, they're irresistible. The first time people see those videos, they all go, `Awwwww.' Especially women. They all want to pick the bunnies up and cuddle them. I'll bet a woman would put her own baby down to cuddle a bunnydog. I'll bet tomorrow you'll find out just how friendly the bunnydogs really are-"

  "Thanks. I think I can find the rest of the way myself," I interrupted him deliberately.

  "It's just down there." Larson pointed. "Past those steel doors. Follow the red stripe to the security section."

  "Security?"

>   "It's an isolation block. It sits on springs. It's earthquake-proof and self-contained. That's where we control the whole operation. All our files are stored there. It can be locked down tighter than the Iron Mountain. It's got an independent air supply, power supply, and a six-month supply of food. It's safe against the entire electromagnetic spectrum, including lasers, masers, xasers, all kinds of radiation, magnetism, and television reruns. It's blanketed by scrambler fields. Nothing goes in or out without permission. Oh-and you'll have to decontaminate too."

  I looked at Larson. "Isn't all this a little extreme for just a counseling session?"

  He shrugged. "It's the best place in the world for privacy." He turned and headed back the way we'd come.

  I followed Larson's directions: through the steel doors, past a security scan, detoxification, through a security tube-through a triple airlock-then through another security tube and a final scanning station.

  The robot at the desk directed me down a hall to a corridor of personal apartments. Room fourteen, please.

  I knocked on the door politely.

  A woman's voice: "Door's open. Come on in."

  I pushed it open. The first thing that struck me was the smell of lilac perfume.

  And then, Colonel Lizard Tirelli came out of the kitchen wearing an apron and an embarrassed smile. "Come on in, Jim."

  FIFTY-TWO

  "I GUESS I owe you an explanation-and an apology," she began. "I should think so." I was still standing in the doorway. "Come in, Jim, and close the door behind you." When I didn't move, she stepped past me and pushed the door shut herself, then she took me by the hand and led me into the room. "Lieutenants," she muttered. She pointed at the couch. "Sit down and listen."

  I sat. She pulled up a chair and sat down opposite me. "Do you want something to drink?" she asked.

  I shook my head. The apartment was furnished very comfortably. There was nothing at all to indicate that it was eighty feet underground.

  Lizard began softly. "I treated you abominably, I know. Believe me, I feel terrible about it-but there's a very good reason why it had to be this way."

  "A good reason? Yeah?" I waited.

  "The problem is.. ." she continued, "I can't tell you what that reason is. All I can do is ask you to forgive me." She searched my face expectantly. "Jim?"

  This did not make sense.

  I shook my head. "I don't know. I'm confused." I rubbed my forehead, my face. I looked back at her. I couldn't think of any words to say. "I-just- You're crazy! You know that?"

  She sighed and nodded her agreement. "Very probably, I am. But this is the only way I could make it work."

  "Make what work?"

  She looked unhappy. "My promise-to you."

  "Your promise-?" I crossed to her and pulled her to her feet. I held her arms and demanded, "Just what the hell is going on?" She went rigid in my grasp, but her expression wasn't angry-it was frightened. Of me?

  Abruptly, she burst out in frustration: "I'm being monitored! You're being monitored! By the military! This is the only place where we're guaranteed any privacy. I think." I let go of her in surprise. I could still smell her perfume. Lilac.

  "Monitored-? Why?"

  She shrugged helplessly. "Why not?"

  I stared at her. My mind was whirling. "So that little performance upstairs-that wasn't for me? Was it?"

  "I am so sorry about that. . ." she said.

  "You did that to me without-?" I could feel the fury rising into my face. "I don't understand. I've been monitored before. Everybody on the goddamn base knew about the time Ted got me drunk. They're already gossiping about you and me. So what does it matter if somebody sees us or looks at a tape or something-?"

  "You don't know. It matters to me!" she said.

  "Why didn't you tell me-?"

  "I couldn't!"

  "Why? What am I-some kind of a cretin, or a thing-that you'll only be my friend if you can keep it a secret from me?"

  "Y'know, it isn't easy being your friend!" she snapped back. "Sometimes you are a jerk."

  "And you're a stuck-up, fat-assed, iron-clad, dragon-faced, redheaded gorgon who can't even keep a plastic eggbeater in the sky! But you're the one who wants to go to bed with me!"

  "My ass is not fat! And I thought it was mutual-"

  "It was!" I shouted back.

  "Well then-" And suddenly, she was flustering close to tears. Lizard? "--Can't you just accept it? Jim, please?"

  "And wake up tomorrow and find you've turned back into Medusa? Dammit! That hurt!"

  "Jim-" She took my hands in hers. Her eyes were incredibly blue. "I am so terribly sorry and unhappy to have hurt you. You are an extraordinarily precious human being. Please believe me, if there had been any other way-but this was the only way I could manage it."

  "I want to believe you," I said. "I really do. . . ." I kept on holding her hands in mine. They were very warm. "But I-I just don't know-"

  "I wanted to be with you tonight," she said. "That was the whole purpose of this-"

  "I want to be with you too!" I felt my throat tightening. "I just want to know that you care."

  "I do care." Her voice was very soft. "Believe me. I really do." I couldn't deny it. She was telling the truth.

  And I wanted her so badly

  I leaned forward and touched my lips to hers. She tasted sweet. After several eternities, we broke apart and looked at each other. We were both relieved-and embarrassed.

  "So you'll stay for dinner?" she asked.

  "Well ... maybe. What are you making?"

  "C rations and bottled water."

  "You promised me a lobster."

  "Listen, it was hard enough to reserve the apartment-"

  "I'm sorry, it's lobster or nothing."

  "Well... all right." She led me into the dining room.

  The lobster on the table was large enough to have been a threat to dogs, cats and small children when it was alive. There was a bottle of wine chilling in the bucket.

  "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

  She shrugged. "When the day comes that I can't out-think a lieutenant-"

  I pulled away from her. "Hold it! Before we go any further-no more military stuff, okay?"

  Colonel Lizard Tirelli of the United States Army, Special Forces Warrant Agency nodded her head in agreement. She unpinned her long red hair and let it cascade down to her shoulders. "Deal," she said.

  Dinner passed like a dream.

  She was too beautiful. I couldn't stop watching her. We traded a lot of embarrassed smiles and kept our conversation deliberately casual.

  "I have to admit something," I said.

  "What's that?"

  "I-was jealous of you. I thought that you and Danny Anderson were-you know-lovers."

  "Really?" She laughed. "Don't be silly. Danny's gay."

  "Huh? You're kidding! I'll be damned. Is that why Duke-?" I shut my mouth.

  "Probably. "

  "Well. Gosh." I shook my head unbelievingly.

  "I have to admit something too."

  "What?"

  "I was jealous that you were spending too much time with Lois Fletcher."

  "No!"

  "Yes."

  "But she's-" I shrugged. "I just never thought of her that way."

  "I'm glad-"

  Eventually we moved to the bedroom and I started to tense up again. I didn't know why.

  While I waited for her, I busied myself with bridegroom things. I turned the lights and the music low. I turned back the bed. Finally, I pulled off my clothes and slipped between the sheets to wait.

  After all this time--

  She came out of the bathroom wearing a nightgown so sheer two silkworms couldn't have spent more than an afternoon on it. She got into bed next to me and I wondered if I should reach for her. I wanted to.

  I looked over at her.

  She looked back at me expectantly. "Are you going to make the first move?" she asked. "Or should I?"

  "Uh-" I said. This
wasn't going to be as easy as I thought. "You are so beautiful......"

  She stroked my cheek. "You don't need the compliments any more, Jim. We're beyond that." She added gently, "Now we're at foreplay."

  I said, "I-I know this is going to sound stupid, but you're too beautiful. I don't know if I can make love to a woman as beautiful as you."

  She looked like she was about to laugh-she smothered it quickly, compassionately. "I'll let you in on a secret," she said. "I'm really very plain. I walked into that bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror and said, `Ick. What a mess.' Really. But then I said, `But Jim deserves the best, so I'm going to pretend to be gorgeous, just for him.' And see, you believed it."

  "I think you over did it," I said. "I hate to admit this-but I'm scared as hell!"

  "You're kidding." She said it straight out.

  "I am twenty-four years old," I said. "I lost my virginity when I was nineteen. I have been with three different girls in my life-four, if you count Ted. That's it, the sum total of my experience. I have never been with a woman as intensely beautiful as you are. And-" I added, "I have never been with anyone I cared about as much as you."

  She was studying me thoughtfully. "You are scared, aren't you?"

  "I'm terrified... that I won't be good enough......"

  "Thank you," she said. "For being so honest." She reached over and put her hand on my chest. It felt like fire-like electricity. For a moment, all I could feel was that hand, those delicate fingers, the fingernail tracing a circle in the little patch of hair over my breastbone. After a moment, she said softly, "Listen, sweetheart. This isn't an audition. You're not being graded. Let me play Mommy for about two seconds here and I'll tell you something. The only thing that you need to do a good job is enthusiasm. You got that?"

  "I've got lots of enthusiasm," I said. "So much so I'm afraid I'm going to burst a blood vessel."

  "Good," she said. She shifted her position so we were lying side by side. "There is no right way to do this, Jim-so you can't possibly screw it up. And if you do anyway, I forgive you in advance."

  I moved my hand to her breast. She was warm. My hand was cold. I was afraid to move it. I said, "I, uh-I can't help it. I feel like I should ask permission."

 

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