She didn't laugh at me. She took my hand in hers and held it. She kissed my fingers. She took a breath and whispered, "Sweetheart, you are so caring-but you have to stop thinking of sex as something you do to another person, and start thinking of it as something that two people share together."
"I'd really like that-" I said. "But I've never experienced it that way."
Lizard's expression remained open. She wasn't judging me. She was just hearing what I had to say. She squeezed my hand again. "Listen to me, stupid-" The way she said it, it was a term of endearment. "I'm going to tell you everything you need to know about sex."
"I don't think we have that much time," I admitted.
"It's all right. There isn't that much you need to know. It'll only take a minute."
She lifted herself up on one elbow and put her finger on my lips. Her fingers were exquisite. I kissed them.
"The only thing in the world that you really own," she began, "is the body that you live in. So that's the only thing you really have to share."
"I never thought of it that way," I said.
"Hush, child-I'm not through. Have you ever noticed that you never go to bed with anyone unless you're interested in their body?"
I nodded.
"Well, nobody ever goes to bed with you either without being interested in your body. Sex is about bodies. Either you like bodies, my dear, or you don't have sex."
"I like bodies," I said. "I like yours." I put out a tentative hand and let my fingers touch her arm.
"And I like yours," she smiled back at me.
"See-" I said, "that's the part I have trouble with. I never knew that."
"I know," she said. "That's why you're such an asshole. Cute, but still an asshole. Why do you have such a low opinion of yourself? Do you know that's an insult to the people you go to bed with? It means you don't think much of their taste either. It also means that you have to con people into your bed, and when you get them there, the best you can do is use them. Here's what I'm trying to tell you, my sweet lover-you can't have good sex with anyone else until you let yourself experience your own wonderfulness."
"My own wonderfulness ... ?" I squeaked. I cleared my throat. "I, uh-always thought that a person should be... um, modest."
"Hmp," she said. "Modesty is the most arrogant form of conceit. Modesty is an excuse to hide yourself, and that rips people off. If you're wonderful-and you are-then, share it. Don't you think people like being around wonderful people? Don't you?"
"Sure. But I'm not-what you said-wonderful."
She sat up and stared at me. "Who made up that shit?"
"Huh?"
"I said, `who made up that shit?' That you're not wonderful. Trust me, sweetheart-you are positively terrific."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
"This is making me very uncomfortable-" I said. "Couldn't we just get on with what we set out to do ... ?"
"No, we can't. Not until you let it in. I think you're wonderful." I looked away. She was too beautiful.
She put a hand on my chin and turned my face back to hers. "It's all right for you to think I'm gorgeous, huh? But not for me to think you're terrific?"
"But, I'm not-"
"I. Say. You. Are." Her tone of voice left no room for argument.
"I hear you-" I managed to say.
"Do you? Do you really? You need to let this in, stupid. I don't go to bed with losers. I chose you. Did you ever stop to think why?"
"Bad eyesight?" I joked.
She slapped my face. Hard.
When my vision cleared, I was lying on my back and she was on top of me, glaring down at me. "Now that I have your attention," she said, "-don't ever do that again!"
"Do what?"
"Insult my taste in lovers. You're so busy denying your own sexiness you can't even see how horny I am for you. Will you let it in?" Her face was very close to mine. Her eyes were almost too close to focus on. I felt like I was staring into an abyss that I wanted to jump into.
I wanted to tell her something, but I didn't have the words for it. I wanted to ask for help, but I didn't think she could help me. I felt her fingers on my shoulders. I felt her weight on my chest, her legs around mine. I felt myself stiffening with desire-and I was terrified.
She must have seen it in my eyes. She raised herself up and looked down at me.
"Something's the matter, isn't it? There's something deeper, isn't there?"
"I don't deserve you," I said.
"Of course, you don't," she agreed. "I'm a gift, not a payment."
And then she stopped in mid-thought and studied me. "But you don't know how to enjoy sex, do you?"
I didn't answer. She was right. I'd seen other couples laughing and playing together. I'd always wondered how they managed it. I always felt... left out.
"All right-I give up," she said. "We'll do it your way." Abruptly, she rolled off me and out of bed.
"Where are you going?"
"I'll be right back-"
She padded back in carrying an American flag. Fifty-two stars, thirteen stripes. I remembered there had been a small meeting room next door.
She climbed back into bed and began settling herself with exaggerated care. "I'll tell you what," she said seriously. "I'm going to put this flag over my face-" she pulled it up over her head like a sheet "-and you can do it for love of country." And then she lay there and was very very still.
"What-?"
She didn't answer.
I pulled the flag down off her face. She was grinning up at me. "I don't know what else to do," she said, and pulled the flag back up.
"You come out of there!"
"What's the matter!" Her voice came up through the stars and stripes. "Aren't you patriotic?" She cradled her breasts. "Here-pretend that these are the tits of liberty!" And then she jiggled them.
"Lizard-!"
She jiggled her tits again-harder this time.
"This is not funny!" I said.
The flag started shaking. "Then why am I laughing so hard?" she asked. She was making little squeaking noises in her throat. Her chest shook.
I reached to pull the flag away. She grabbed it and held on. I poked her in the ribs instead. She shrieked and jerked her hands down to her stomach. I reached for the flag-she grabbed it againI gave her another poke in the ribs-and another- "Here! You want patriotism? It's Pearl Harbor Day!" I made explosion noises to punctuate each poke. She yelped each time, but she wouldn't stop giggling-she pulled her knees up to her chest.
I hollered, "Banzaiii!" and smacked her on the bottom!
"Oh, you're gonna get it now-" she started.
"Yeah! You and what army?" I pulled the flag away and poked her again; she doubled up on her side, giggling too hard to resist. I grabbed her and rolled her over on her back. "Tits of liberty, huh? It looks more like the two-party system to me. First I'm going to party here-"
"Jim-!" she shrieked in surprise.
"-and then I'm going to party over here! And what's this? A cleavage in the body politic?" I put my face between her breasts and made a big wet razzberry sound. She was laughing like crazy now. She pulled her legs up to kick me away, but I pinned her knees under my chest and held her shoulders down with my hands. I was laughing as hard as she was. "And what's this down here-? The crack of doom?" Her eyes met mine.
And in that moment-I knew. And grinned. I could feel my face splitting in joy. I could see the laughter reflected back in her eyes.
I couldn't catch my breath. I was giggling too hard. And so was she.
We giggled and laughed together and in the middle of it, I bent my face down to hers. Her knees parted, her legs opened beneath me and I lowered myself onto her and into her. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and held on tight. We both did. I gave myself to her, and she to me-and we were joyous.
She was right. I was wonderful.
FIFTY-THREE
SATELLITE RECON gave us the morning pictures: three primary targets and seven
backups.
I voted for the one closest to our original crash site. Both Colonel Tirelli and Dr. Fletcher agreed and that settled that.
We reconfirmed our choice a half hour before liftoff, and then we were on our way. Three huge choppers clattered into the air like malevolent insects and turned north across the bay. I remembered this view from before.
I glanced around the chopper. Dr. Fletcher was conferring with Jerry Larson about the layout of monitor probes and sample traps. The crew in the back were sleeping. It was a good idea. We'd been up since before dawn. I made myself comfortable
-and was awakened by the beeping of the autopilot. The chopper was dropping. "We're there," called Lizard. I straightened up and looked out the window.
We were falling toward a wide grassy pasture. It was overgrown with tall blue-green grass. I could see it waving in the wind. I glanced backward. The follow-choppers were still in formation, coming down with us.
The three ships settled down into the soft ground right in the center. There was at least a kilometer of clear space on every side of us. Good. Nothing would approach us undetected.
"All right," growled Lizard, "everybody stay in your seats until the ground crew declares the area secure."
I peered out the window. A security team, armed with torches, caustic sprays, and bazookas was just fanning out. I envied them. At least they knew what they were doing.
As soon as security declared the area yellow, the science team hit the ground running. Their job was to put out probes and sensors. I saw several small mobile units rolling out through the grass, including two walkers and a spider.
My orders were to stay inside until we went to condition green. I climbed forward and parked myself in the copilot's seat again. Directly ahead, the walkers were beginning the process of clearing a wide circular area. A gathering circle. A friendly sign for the bunnydogs. An invitation.
I thought about a beer. I opened a Coke instead.
The afternoon got suddenly dark. The camouflage dome was being pulled into place over the chopper. Soon it would be inflated and sprayed. The whole process would take less than an hour. The theory was that the choppers would have negative associations for the worms and bunnies. So we'd hide them. If we needed to scramble, the camouflage domes could be blown away in seconds.
Somebody switched the cabin lights on. I glanced back. Colonel Tirelli was just climbing forward. She dropped into the pilot's seat. We were alone in the chopper.
I turned to look out the opposite window. I made sure she saw that my studied nonchalance was deliberate.
She ignored me. She clicked her controls this way and that and looked very busy. I wondered if she had anything to say to me. Either she didn't-or she wasn't ready to say it yet. The silence stretched on.
Maybe I should say something. I turned to her-
-and noticed a tiny American flag pin on her lapel. I nearly cracked up laughing. I had to bite my tongue to keep control. Lizard looked at me curiously. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?"
"I am fine," I grinned. "Just fine!"
FIFTY-FOUR
THE TWO robots had stamped out and cleared a wide, mathematically precise arena. A perfect circle.
I stripped down to my shorts and sat in the center and ... imagined. I closed my eyes and imagined what it would be like to be surrounded by bunnydogs. And worms.
I tried to imagine sitting naked before a curious worm. I shuddered. And not because the wind was cold.
I tried to imagine the smell of the animal. The look of it. The feel of its fur. I had touched a living worm's fur once. It had tingled.
I tried to imagine what it would feel like to stand naked before a worm. I couldn't imagine myself feeling anything but terrified.
No bunnydogs showed up the first day. Or the second.
We kept close to the chopper domes and worried.
Fletcher and I practiced. We did communication exercises, clearing exercises, confrontation exercises-things that seemed to make no sense at all, and yet... I began to feel as if I were the center of the world here. I began to feel... focused. There was a clarity of purpose developing here.
Every moment was preparation. Every moment was a drill.
Fletcher would ask me, "What are you doing now?"
And I would reply, "I'm eating."
She'd ask, "And why are you eating?"
"Because I'm hungry."
"What's your purpose in eating?"
"Taking care of my body, so I can do the job." It felt like a catechism, but-I could feel the meanings under the words. It was true.
"And what job is that?"
"Creating a relationship with the bunnydogs, a space in which communication can occur."
"Good. Do you have any other purposes?"
"I did want to ... have a relationship with Lizard-but I've let go of that now."
"Good, James. Anything else?"
"No."
I felt myself entering a different state of consciousness. The difference was profound.
I felt-in control.
As if I were creating it.
All of it. The forest. The meadow. The domes. The quiet, distant faces.
Especially the faces-they were all so detached from me. They were my herd. And I was-the leader? Not... quite. I was the ... magician.
The feeling was curious.
I told Fletcher I wanted to walk in the forest. She shook her head no.
I insisted. I said it was necessary-for me to be clear.
She said all right, but only if she could send a security team with me.
I told her I needed to be alone. I needed to feel ownership of the land-especially if I were going to invite a bunnydog family to share it.
I insisted.
She gave in. She let me walk.
I knew the team was following me at a discreet distance. I didn't mind. As long as I wasn't tripping over them.
The forest was a cathedral, green and gold.
Its ceiling was so high it was invisible-a canopy of lofty branches and dark broad leaves. God's light slanted down through the pine and the redwoods, turning the tree trunks ruddy. The beams were so solid you could feel them with your fingers. They struck sparks of golden dust in the air.
High above, cold wind played across the roof, letting the bright blue sky peek through in tiny patches here and there. The breeze rustled the leaves like an organ and dappled the light that fell to the soft brown earth below. My footsteps fell lightly on a carpet of fresh green pine needles.
I breathed deeply-and the air smelled like heaven: pine and honeysuckle and cascades of beautiful growing green things. There was no pink left anywhere.
I could have stayed here forever.
Somewhere ahead, I heard water-a stream. I followed the sound and-
The forest opened out onto a meadow.
A riot of color, gaudy brilliance, dazzling to the eye!
But such a meadow! Nothing like this had ever been seen on the Earth before!
I stepped forward hesitantly.
Purple ivy, streaked with lavender and white, curled away from me. Black shambler bushes struck silver sparks in the air. Slender red growths rose like fountains, exploding into feathery black and pink fronds.
And over everything- mandala vines.
They captured the eye, they overwhelmed the senses. They were a carpet, they rolled away in endless waves. The mandala flowers piled themselves high; they dripped from stumps of rotted trees; they hung from branches in a riotous celebration of color, a royal display.
I stood and gaped in awe and wonder. Silver and crimson, orange and indigo so dark it was black, magenta, yellow and blue, cascades of hue and shade beyond the eye's ability to differentiate.
And, oh-the smells!
Waves of scent swept over me-fresh baked bread, strawberry jam, thick fresh cream, apple cobbler, peaches-and scents for which I had no names at all. Dark purply scents laced with scarlet overtones: sweet chords of gold and opium perfume. Heady
aromas of magic, sparkling spells; doorways into crystal heavens and beautiful trips through Hell.
The forest behind me was forgotten.
Dammit! Why did the invasion have to be beautiful too?
On the morning of the third day, the sensors picked up a worm on the east edge of the meadow.
A quiet voice on the radio said, "I think I've got something." We crowded around the monitors. The big display showed a smallish-looking worm poised on the high end of the slope. It seemed confused. Its eye-stalks swiveled back and forth as it studied the three mottled domes in the middle of the pasture below it. It flowed a few meters forward
-and stopped. Hesitated. Swiveled its eyes. Backward. Forward.
- We went to full magnification. The eyes irised shut and open again. Sput-phwut.
The worm half turned and looked behind itself. Then it swiveled its eyes toward us again.
I felt as if I could read its mind. It was a five-year-old child, seeing something very interesting, but not knowing if it should investigate by itself-or go tell Mommy first.
It made up its mind. This was a well-trained five-year-old. It completed its turn and headed off to the east as fast as it could go. Nothing else happened for the rest of the day.
During the night, the sensors picked up movement on the ridge, but it could have been deer or coyotes.
FIFTY-FIVE
LIZARD WOKE me up. "Jim-"
"Huh? What?" Everything was dark. "What time is it?"
"Shh. Be quiet. It's almost dawn. I want you to come forward." I rubbed my eyes and fell out of my bunk
"I said, `Be quiet!"' she whispered again.
I followed her forward. "What do you want?"
"Look-" She pointed.
I looked to the monitor screen on the console. I looked out the window. Through the netting, I could see-
There were three bunnydogs sitting on the opposite side of the circle.
"This is it," I said. I looked at her. "Isn't it?" She nodded.
I started unbuttoning my shirt. "We should get started-"
She put her hand on my shoulder. "There's time. We'll do it by the mission book."
"But they could leave."
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