A Season for Slaughter - читать бесплатно онлайн полную версию книги автора David Gerrold (Chapter 72 "Nobody got out.") #77

Chapter 72 "Nobody got out."

"Pain would be much more effective if we got the message before the event instead of after."

-SOLOMON SHORT

Lizard wasn't there waiting for me.

They rushed me sideways down a tilted corridor into a makeshift medical section. The beds were hung from overhead beams, and Dr. Meier had one arm bandaged. She took one look at me and said, "Oh, shit-"

"Where's Lizard?" I demanded feebly. "Where's General Tirelli?"

She ignored me. She was already cutting away my pants. "Goddammit, look at that knee. Shut up, Jim. Let me think." Something pricked my arm. One of her assistants was starting an IV. Another was bringing up my readout on a screen. "He's very shocky," she said. "And he's suffering from exposure. I'm amazed he's conscious."

Dr. Meier turned and studied it. "Did they find the portable scanner yet?"

"Yes and no. It's busted."

"Shit." Meier turned back to me. "This is going to hurt, Jim. Wait—" She shoved a rag into my mouth. "Bite that."

She was right. It hurt. A lot.

When I regained consciousness, she was wiping my face with a damp cloth. "Sorry," she said. "I had to find out how bad the damage was. Do you want some water?"

I croaked an assent and she slid a straw between my dry, cracked lips. The water was warm and sterile and tasteless; it was the best drink I'd ever had in my life.

"Slowly," she cautioned. It dribbled down my chin anyway. As she lifted it away, she added, "The good news is you're going to keep your leg."

She watched me carefully while I considered the import of her words. I must have still been in shock-or maybe they were sedating me. It didn't mean anything. "What's the bad?" I asked.

"I'm going to try to save the kneecap. We've already injected a local anesthetic. That'll ease the pain a bit. I wish I could operate immediately, but it's tricky, and I'm waiting to see if they can level this ship, so I can have a real operating room. And, if the choppers can get here fast enough, I'll wait until we can get you back to Panama, although I'd be a lot happier if we could go straight through to Miami."

"Will I walk?"

"Your basketball days are over, but I don't think you're going to need a cane. At least, I hope not."

"What about the rest of me?"

"You're pretty badly banged up, but nothing permanent. I think your collarbone might have cracked again-the same place as last time, but I'm not sure. You've got a couple broken ribs, but you didn't puncture a lung, you lucked out there. You've got scratches in places where most people don't even have places, but as near as I can tell, we caught you on the first bounce, or you found some softer than usual jungle."

I looked around. "Where's Lizard?"

Dr. Meier's face went grim. "Um-"

"What?" I demanded.

"Jim, the briefing lounge was crushed. Nobody got out."

"Lizard did. She talked to me. She called me on the phone. She put me on hold. She wasn't in the briefing lounge. She was climbing up a corridor. That's the last I heard from her. Goddammit! Doesn't anybody listen? Let me up from here-I'll go look for her myself."

"You're not going anywhere-"

"If nobody else is-" I started trying to lever myself up. Dr. Meier pushed me down with one hand. It barely took any effort at all.

"You try that again," she said, "and I'll nail you to this bed. You stay here. I'll tell them. I'll find someone. But stop worrying. If she's still alive, we'll find her. I promise."

I grabbed her arm. "She's the only thing I've got in the world-"

"Jim, let go. You're hurting me. I promise-" She pried my fingers loose from her arm.

"Let me talk to Siegel! Please-"

"He's out checking the defenses."

"When is he coming back?"

"I don't know. He doesn't have a lot of time for this, Jim."

"I've gotta talk to him."

She sighed. "I'll leave a note for him."

By Terran standards, the reproductive strategy of the jellypig is simply bizarre; by Chtorran standards-who knows? We have no yardstick for comparison. While it is possible that the behavior of the jellypig may give us some clue as to how other species in the Chtorran ecology reproduce (in particular, the breeding habits of the gastropede, which still remain a mystery), it is more likely that the bizarre behavior of the jellypig is only a sideshow, with the real astonishments yet to be discovered.

The jellypig is a hermaphroditic creature, performing both male and female roles simultaneously and automatically, apparently without consciousness or volition. The action of rubbing up against other jellypigs in the congestion stimulates the creature to continually produce sperms.

The sperms of the jellypig are parasitic amoeboids; they are steadily released in small spurts of lubricating oil, the same oil that every member of the congestion is enveloped in and continually contributing to. As a result, the congestion is always swimming in its own reproductive juices. Sperms will readily enter the bodies of any receptive jellypigs. A jellypig is always receptive, except when releasing sperms; this slows down, but does not entirely prevent the process of self-fertilization.

The body of the jellypig contains many tumoroidal germ cell clusters, which continually produce eggs. Conception occurs within the body of the parent any time an amceboid sperm meets an egg. A healthy jellypig is likely to have many embryos of all sizes growing within its flesh. In addition, the embryos are also likely to have been impregnated and will probably be carrying embryos of their own. In other words, jellypigs are not only born pregnant; they are frequently born already grandmothers and great-grandmothers.

Jellypigs do not have oviducts or birth canals. The embryos feed on the flesh of the parent, eventually eating their way right out of the mother's body. If the jellypig is large enough, and if the exit damage heals faster than new wounds are created, a jellypig is likely to survive the births of its own offspring. Otherwise, it becomes food not only for its own children; but for the rest of the congestion as well.

While it may be personally unlucky for the individual jellypig to be too fertile, it seems to be a valuable survival trait for the jellypig congestion.

—The Red Book,

(Release 22.19A)