Earth Has Been Found (22 page)

XXXV.

Freedman was not the only one who realized the possible significance of the deer report; and for those who thought as he did, a new and frightening set of possibilities was introduced.

If the Amazonian Xenos killed animals, it was safe to assume they were seeking an alternative food source. That fact made the news of the deer much more sinister.

Freedman attended an emergency conference at Walter Reed, but even before he left Abdera, his mind was made up. Obviously only those animals killed for food would be found. If others were used as hosts for Xeno’s eggs, they wouldn’t be attacked, they’d live.

And suppose the Pennsylvania deer had been implanted? Suppose Xeno was switching from humans to animals because humans were proving difficult to implant?

The conference was unanimous in that view. Hard scientific evidence did not exist — they did not even know what types of animals were being found dead in the Amazon jungle by the natives — but all recognized that this was no time to stand around. The destruction of the remaining Xenos, at any cost, had become vital. Every day that passed increased the threat of a new generation of the aliens, and if they established themselves in wild animals the task would be next to impossible. Freedman said bluntly that he believed a second generation was already on the way; at least, they’d better work on that assumption.

Within the hour the White House had been apprised of this opinion. Immediately warnings went out to India, Germany, and Russia, and the President sent a personal representative to Brazil, his task to convince the Brazilian government that urgent action was necessary to protect not only the aborigines but ultimately the country’s entire population.

Living within the jungle envelope, protected from strong winds, the Xenos had not yet spread very far; but as their numbers grew, they would be forced to seek new victims. The tribe should be evacuated and the whole area “neutralized” with a lethal nerve gas. The idea of wiping out all life in an area of about a thousand square miles wasn’t attractive. But the alternative was less attractive still; a town like Manaus might suddenly find itself under attack. Given approval, the USAF would do the job.

*

Freedman spent the night in Washington as Arcasso’s guest. Dinner was no sparkling affair, both men cocooned in their own somber thoughts. After the first course Frank’s wife gave up trying to make conversation and got the meal over as fast as possible. Mark managed a few polite but unconvincing words as she cleared the table, which she took with a tight little smile.

Frank got up, tossing his napkin on the table.

“C’mon, Mark,” he growled, heading for the den. He waved Mark to an armchair and fished out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. “You want anything with it?” he said, still standing. As old world hospitality, it left a great deal to be desired, but Mark understood.

“No,” he said, pulling out his pipe, “but what are you going to drink?”

“Yeah,” he said heavily, producing a second bottle. “I know what you mean.” He poured two big ones. “Help yourself,” he said, putting an end to his duties as host. They drank in silence, like two strangers in a bar, Freedman staring blankly at the photographs of aircraft which covered the fireplace wall.

“You heard about Tatyana?”

Mark nodded. “Malin told me. I’m sorry. Such a waste … ”

“You certainly are a cold bastard at times!” There was an edge to Arcasso’s voice.

Mark took it calmly. “No, I’m a professional bastard. In my work, if you’re anything else, you get your heart broken daily. She would have understood.

“Yeah,” Arcasso understood also. “She was a great woman, Mark.”

They drank, neither needing to admit it was an unspoken toast to Tatyana Ivanovna Marinskiya. For several minutes both men were silent.

‘I’ll shoot first,” said Frank without preamble. “The Brazilians have got the message. We’re free to strike as soon as they can get those poor bastards out. Remembering what you said, I’ve arranged for a couple of biologists to go in with the rescue team. They fly down tomorrow night — you can help with their briefing in the morning.”

Freedman nodded, seeming less than excited.

“Now the good news. The Germans have caught both of their Xenos.” He laughed shortly. “Trust the krauts to be on the ball!”

Freedman made a weak attempt at a smile as he refilled his glass.

“Hell! It’s something, isn’t it?”

“Oh, sure, it’s something,” replied Mark without enthusiasm.

“Sure it’s something!” exclaimed Frank. “If the Germans can do it, so can we!”

“Frank,” said Mark wearily, “you’ve been with this ICARUS business longer than anyone, and you know we’ve always been one step behind the action.”

“That seems a bit unfair, Mark. Is it really our fault?”

“I didn’t say it was. It’s just a fact. Okay, so we learn fast — but not fast enough! With no previous experience to go on, we’re bound to be behind. Unfortunately, I’ve got a sneaky feeling we won’t get a second chance.”

His pessimism forced Frank into the opposite camp. “Come on, Mark. Believe me, the Brazilian Xenos are as good as dead, and the Germans have ironed out their problem. That’s a good start.”

“No. You come on, Frank,” said Mark gently. “Stop whistling in the dark.”

Frank refilled his glass, breathing heavily. “Okay, so you tell me.”

“First, those animals the Brazilian group fed on. I don’t know if they have deer in that region; somehow I doubt it. I think the victims will turn out to be a species of wild hog. That’s the item your biologists have to clarify. Nothing else matters. It’s obvious that the Amazonian Xenos have thrived on their diet — remember the size of that specimen. They adapted because there weren’t enough humans to go around. My guess is that Xeno can get by on hogs and deer, even if it prefers humans.” He peered sharply at Arcasso through the gathering smoke. “How many hogs or wild deer d’you suppose we have in the States?”

Arcasso realized this was a rhetorical question, and remained silent.

“Last year we had sixty-five million hogs! And as for wild deer, you tell me! Get the idea?”

The horrified expression on Frank’s face showed that he did. He tried to fight back. “You’re guessing, Mark. There’s no hard evidence.”

“No, there isn’t, and by the time we get it, it’ll be too late. I’m working on probabilities, trying to stay even with Xeno, trying to keep from falling that one fatal step behind.”

Frank considered this for a moment. “But you must have some reason for picking on hogs” — he shifted ground — “and just because this warden says he saw a Xeno on a deer’s back — ”

Mark cut in. “I said I’m working on probabilities. D’you realize that hogs are physiologically very close to humans? The blood structure is similar to ours.” He went on quickly, before Frank could break his train of thought, “I’m convinced that Xeno has a very sophisticated blood-analysis system; without exception, it
always
finds the carotid artery in a human. Okay, that’s not analysis, it’s detection — and it sure as hell has that ability — but somehow, perhaps through smell, it
knows
, it analyzes. I’m aware of only one case of this so far — a girl in Abdera who had been a host to a Xeno egg was literally examined by a Xeno, but
not
attacked.”

“You mean Jaimie’s wife?”

Mark frowned at the interruption. “Yes,” he said shortly. “I’ve thought a lot about that incident. It’s odd. I don’t understand it; maybe the Xeno detected something in her blood, some trace we failed to find which kept it from attacking her, I don’t know. All I
do
know is that not one of the
Papa
Kilo
passengers became a victim after their return. That proves nothing, and it’s irrelevant to the point I’m making. If my theory’s right, Xeno’s blood-sensor has established that other earthly creatures can support it, as a food source and as a host for its egg. I believe that deer report, and if a deer is suitable, I’m damned sure a hog will be!”

Frank flung his cigar butt savagely into the fireplace. “Okay, okay, so what’s your answer?”

“We have to get the facts from the Amazon, fast. Every day counts. If my opinion is confirmed, we have to kill and burn every hog within a hundred kilometers of a Xeno outbreak. We’ve also got to start hunting down and killing all deer in affected areas in the U.S. Every single last one of the Xenos must be destroyed — and all this
must
be completed before the fall!”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Xeno will be established. It’s no good snarling, Frank. Your outfit can’t go spreading nerve gas around in the States! Every remaining Xeno must have a hunting team assigned to it; give them a personal incentive, say ten thousand bucks for each one caught. That’s the first priority. Then your Intelligence Center must produce maps of the affected areas, and the federal government must arrange the destruction of all hogs and deer in those areas. It’s the only way!”

“Look, Mark,” said Frank soberly, “I’m not saying you’re wrong; the chances are you’ve got this doped out. But think of the problems!” He lit a new cigar. “I’m just an aviator, not a politician — thank Christ! But I’ve been around this town long enough to see the problems. The hog farmers will raise all kinds of hell, and the conservationists will scream the place down if the Army moves in and starts bumping off the deer — ”

“So what? It
has
to be done — I’m certain it’s our only hope.”

“Sure, you’re certain, but there’s no hard evidence. Do you imagine all we have to do is say ‘Okay, it’s Dr. Freedman’s hunch, so don’t beef if you’re put out of business’?”

“I’m not alone, Frank. The Walter Reed group and Harvard agreed.”

“Oh, swell!” observed Frank caustically. “The hog farmers will be very impressed!”

“To hell with them!” exclaimed Mark passionately. “If the federal government goes along with what we believe, that’s enough. The first duty of government is to govern!”

*

But events took a new turn, one which neither the Walter Reed group and Freedman nor anyone else had foreseen. Abruptly, the attacks stopped.

XXXVI.

Another week of a long, hot summer passed, a week of suspense in which not one Xeno attack was reported. By the end of the week human nature had reasserted itself; people in the affected areas began to relax, even as Vesuvians had started rebuilding their homes before the lava had cooled. In Washington, the sharp edge of urgency was momentarily blunted.

The Amazonian operation had been executed with speed and precision. Eighty or ninety of the aborigines now lived in a guarded camp. In spite of their terror, they refused to reveal the location of their White God, and without their help, the search party could have looked forever in that terrain. Even the threat of death from the skies failed to move them. In all probability the idea was only dimly grasped; they rejected it as a matter of no importance. The White God came from the skies with his own devils; he would survive and await their return.

So along with every living creature in the target zone, their god and his faithful followers died within seconds as the killer rain-mist drifted down through the jungle’s canopy of leaves. Far worse than the Xeno’s venom, the sticky gas droplets had a much longer death-life; any creature entering the area for two or three months would quickly die.

The news the biologists brought back was less hopeful. Freedman’s worst fear proved correct: the aborigines’ food, the “gift of the god,” turned out to be a species of wild hog.

Washington went ahead with plans. No one disagreed with the ideas of the biologists, but the cessation of attacks in the States and the success of the Brazilian strike reduced the tempo from white-hot to red-hot, and allowed the bureaucratic machine to get back in gear. Maps of infested areas were produced, but there was no immediate action. The farmers had to be consulted, compensation terms argued, and attempts had to be made to placate the conservation lobby about the deer.

The bureaucrats took the view that the delay of a week — or maybe two — would make no real difference, but with proper organization, a great deal of disruption could be avoided. After all, an estimated one million hogs would have to be destroyed; the procurement of the killing spray and the fuel needed to burn the carcasses would be a sizable project in itself. As for the deer, was it not better to let the hunters do the killing rather than the Army? That way the “sportsmen” would not be resentful. As long as the operation was completed before the first Xeno egg could hatch, what was the rush?

The Xeno hunting went on. It had been difficult enough when they were active, but now that they were unseen and unheard the task became impossible. Only fifteen or twenty remained, but they were scattered over the whole eastern seaboard from New York to Louisiana. Likely areas were still drenched with the knock-down gas, but nothing was produced. The Intelligence Center, plotting and recording all operations, nursed a growing suspicion that once a zone had been attacked, the Xeno avoided it, moving closer to human habitation where the gas was not used. It was the Abdera experience all over again, but until Xeno tipped its hand, there could be no certainty.

For those close to Freedman, life became difficult. Tense and on edge, he called the Center twice daily, despite Arcasso’s repeated assurances that any news would be passed on the moment it came in. In bed, bath, office, or car, he had a radio pouring news into his ear. The fact that he could not say what he was waiting for only increased his agitation. He remained totally convinced — Xeno might be silent and unseen, but it was sure as hell up to something.

He was right.

*

The girl — once a state champion — swam effortlessly, her goal a raft floating well out in the middle of the lake. Behind her, in the shallows, a spirited game of “keep away” was in progress. No one followed her to the raft.

Reaching the float, she hauled herself out, grateful for the warming sunlight. She took off her cap, shook her hair loose, and for a time looked idly at the scene: the glittering water, the bathers on the distant shore. Her mind wandered, enjoying subconsciously the sensation of being young and healthy on a beautiful day.

She untied the halter-neck of her suit, pulling it down to her waist, and for a time leaned back on her arms, surrendering herself to the sun, her eyes closed. The sharp cry of a bird broke her reverie; a flock of ducks took off, honking discordantly. She turned and stretched out, aware of the sensuous pleasure of the coarse canvas against her breasts. Head resting on arms, she felt the sun and wind caressing her. Lulled by the gentle rocking of the float, she dozed.

A small, gleaming shape detached itself from the top of a tree on the deserted north shore of the lake, launching into a shallow glide. Halfway to its target, it ingested air and emitted a faint burp of sound as it climbed sharply and resumed its fast glide. Close to the raft, it banked, wings glistening in the sun as it made two silent circles.

It touched down on the raft and was still, legs splayed, watching its prey.

It crawled closer to the sleeping figure until it was almost touching one leg. Again it waited, motionless, the terrible golden eyes watching, devoid of expression.

The wings folded back, disappearing against the flanks of the shimmering body. Slowly, its touch as light as the faint breeze, it reached up to her thigh with its forelegs, and paused again. The girl did not move. With infinite care, the Xeno crawled onto her thigh.

The girl stirred. Instantly the Xeno froze and remained still until she lapsed back into sleep. The creature’s back arched slightly. The tail curved down below the body until it barely touched the girl’s flesh and extruded a tiny spot of clear, numbing fluid. A needlelike ovipositor slid out of its protective sheath in the tail. Pink and moist, it went through the center of the spot of fluid, into the girl’s thigh. The Xeno remained still for about five seconds, except for a minute pulsation in the tail. Gently the ovipositor withdrew from the girl’s body, back into its own. The tail straightened, and at the same instant the wings spread. With the faintest sound the Xeno lifted into the air, darting away like a giant dragonfly. Once clear of the girl, it took in more air, jetting upwards, flashing back toward shore. Its day’s work was complete.

The girl stirred again, rubbing the back of her leg with the other foot. Then she slept again, totally unaware of the alien life within her.

There were many like her.

*

The significance of Xeno’s virtual disappearance did not become apparent until ten days after the attacks ceased. Two youths camping in the Blue Ridge Mountains gave the first news; one, returning to camp with wood for the fire, saw a Xeno on his sleeping buddy’s shoulder. It flew off instantly, but the teenager, though badly scared, acted responsibly and quickly got his companion to the nearest doctor. The physician immediately confirmed the presence of a “bite” on the victim’s shoulder.

The report shattered the fragile calm in both Washington and Abdera: Now it was clear why the Xenos had stopped attacking. But the truly alarming news was the Xeno’s location — it had traveled far beyond the area of its last attack. The area in which the fifteen or twenty Xenos could be implanting humans and animals had now expanded tenfold; the maps of “designated areas” had been rendered completely useless.

All evening Freedman sat alone in his small library, staring at his dated maps, thinking bitterly of the lost time. If only they had struck at once — but they hadn’t. Once more, Xeno had kept that one step in front.

Arcasso called at around 9:00 P.M. Mark immediately noticed that his voice was slurred, his responses slow and clumsy — he’d been drinking heavily. Well aware of the significance of the Blue Ridge report, the Walter Reed group had killed and dissected two of their Xenos; in each case four microscopie eggs had been found in the ovipositor track.

Four
! Was this a new adaptation of Xeno — or had they always implanted that many? Suppose the later eggs were prevented from growing by changes in the host’s blood; suppose the second and subsequent eggs could only grow when the demands of the first had been met and the host’s metabolism had been restored to normal?

Shortly before midnight his wife came in to find her husband clutching a half-empty glass, his eyes filled with despair.

“I know you’re worried, dear,” she said gently, “but this won’t help. Come to bed. It may not seem so bad in the morning.”

He managed a faint smile, shaking his head slowly. “No, dear. It’ll get worse every day from now on. We’ve lost. Earth has a new, dreadful life form. We’ll fight, but — ” He shrugged helplessly.

“Perhaps we deserve it. Perhaps God meant it to happen,” she said hesitantly.

Suddenly there were tears in his eyes. “Do you really believe that?” She came to him, knelt at his feet, and took his hands in hers. “Do you
not
believe it?”

He had no answer.

*

Up on the rim of Abdera Hollow, Jaimie and his wife had been asleep for some time. Suddenly he awoke. The windows were open; a gentle pine-scented breeze moved the parted curtains. Shane was not beside him, but this was no great surprise; she was well into her fourth month of pregnancy, and her frequent trips to the bathroom were now a part of life.

For a time he lay still, waiting for her to return. He dozed, then jerked awake again. Still she had not returned. He raised his head from the pillow, looked toward the bathroom door, and saw no light beneath it. Now fully alert, he sat up. Could she have fallen, or be sleepwalking? Silently, he slid out of bed, fumbling for his robe.

He padded barefooted to the top of the stairs. From somewhere below came a reflected glow of light.

Puzzled, he moved quickly down the staircase. The light came from the kitchen, through the half-open door. He reached it and peered in.

Shane stood by the icebox, half-turned away from him, eating. Even as he saw her, she heard him. She turned sharply, her expression a mixture of fright and guilt.

Blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. In her hand, red with blood, was a piece of raw liver.

For an instant, he was paralyzed with shock. Then the realization hit him with blinding force: This was not the craving of a pregnant woman. Now he knew why the Xeno had not touched her. It was not because of what had happened, but because of what was still to come.

“No!” he screamed. “Oh, God, Shane — no!”