Chapter 3.
Worm attack! More worms than had ever been seen before, more worms than had been known to exist, worms in the millions, broadcasting psionic terror.
The tiny northern outpost of Singer Station would have been overwhelmed in minutes had it been manned by ordinary citizens. But it was manned by veteran wormhunters who had come north in search of planetpearls. Against the overwhelming psionic pressure, though sobbing and soiling themselves, they stuck to their posts and fired their crispers into the advancing wall of worms.
Lieutenant Kevin Harmon of Morgan Security was leading his unit on a routine training patrol when he received Singer Station's desperate call for help. But Singer Station was 35 kilometers away, and even if he could get there before it was overrun, his unit would be helpless against a worm attack of this magnitude. Even at this distance, he could feel the psionic pressure.
A worm attack of this magnitude was unheard of, unnatural. And now three other outposts, even further from Lieutenant Harmon than Singer Station, were broadcasting pleas for assistance. A coordinated worm attack? It was not natural.
Lieutenant Harmon ordered his troops to set up a worm scan. The psionic patterns were traced out on the map display. Four great worm boils, and 40 kilometers behind them, on the coast, a psionic source with an odd signature, evidently signalling at the worm boils.
"Here," said Lieutenant Harmon, indicating the strange psionic source on the screen. "We launch all our missiles at this spot."
The missiles were set to their target, and Lieutenant Harmon barked out, "On my mark! Fire!" The missiles roared off to the northeast.
After an interminable wait, the anomalous psionic source on the coast winked out on the screen. Almost at once, the psionic activity of the attacking worm boils dropped by several orders of magnitude. Lieutenant Harmon ordered his unit back into their vehicles. There would be some fighting left, but the worms were beaten. One thing for sure — there would be a glut on the planetpearl market. As he led his unit in a dash to the northeast, Lieutenant Harmon squeezed off an encrypted message to his broker.
"There were three enemy survivors," said Lieutenant Harmon. "The missile blasts left them with serious internal injuries, but all are expected to survive. Two are officers in their thirties. They seem like very hard-bitten types. But one is only a girl — sixteen years old, according to our scan. I can't understand what she was doing on this mission."
"She must have special technical skills," said CEO Morgan. "We need someone who can explain how this worm-control works, and she may be the one. Notify me as soon as she is fit for questioning: I want to interrogate her personally. And put all the prisoners on suicide watch. We need to know what we're up against, so we need them alive."
"I'm not giving you anything except my name, rank, and serial number," said the girl in the hospital bed.
"Very well, what is your name?" asked Nwabudike Morgan. He, Lucia Graves, and a doctor sat on chairs next to the bed.
"Moondance Vargas."
"And your rank?"
"Worm Empath, First Class."
"Thank you. I think we can skip the serial number," said Morgan.
"I demand to be treated according to the Geneva convention!" said Moondance.
"Geneva is 4.35 light-years away," Morgan observed. "And the convention does not shelter terrorists and war criminals, which is what you are."
"I'm a soldier!" said Moondance, evidently unaware that she was going beyond the name-rank-and-serial-number stage.
"Really?" said Morgan. "You launched an unprovoked massacre of helpless civilians. In my book that is terrorism."
"We were trying to save the world!" Moondance retorted hotly. "It was your kind, the polluters and exploiters, who wrecked Earth. We have an obligation to protect Planet's ecology."
"As far as I've seen, Chiron's ecology is just fungus and mindworms. No adorable dolphins, no majestic redwoods, no noble, tragic gorillas, no fluffy little bunnies, just fungus and worms. Tell me, Moondance, do you love the mindworms?" said Morgan.
Moondance shuddered. "I hate them," she said.
Morgan said, "I could explain what really happened on Earth, but at the moment I don't have the time. I do, however, have the time to show you part of what you've done. Lucia, the holo, please."
A holographic image appeared at the end of the bed. "This record is from an elementary school that was overrun by your mindworms. As you see, the teacher is trying to seal the room," said Morgan.
Morgan continued his narration. "Her courage is impressive, not that it will do any good. She has just one flame-pistol as a defence against — how many worms? You should know, Moondance."
"About two million," said Moondance in a small voice.
"And still she keeps control, despite the psionic pressure from two million worms," said Morgan. "Amazing. But the children, of course, are not so strong.
"I suppose if she really had her wits about her, she'd flame the kids now, to save them from a much worse death. Yet that she can think at all under these conditions is astonishing.
"Here comes the first mindworm through the wall. She got it, but there are plenty more where that came from. Don't shut your eyes, soldier. You did this, so you can watch it."
Morgan kept up his commentary as the worms poured through the wall, as the teacher fell screaming, as the worms burrowed through the eyes and into the brains of the terrified children. When it was over, Moondance croaked out a series of spasmodic dry heaves. Her face was soaked in tears. Morgan glanced over at the doctor, who signalled with a gesture that Moondance was not in medical danger.
After the dry heaves subsided, Morgan said, "My friend Miriam Godwinson is a great believer in atonement. Frankly, I don't see how you could atone for this, but maybe you can think of something."
As he left, Morgan ordered redoubled vigilance on the suicide watch.
"What's going to happen to her after we wring her dry?" asked Lucia. "I know what she did was utterly evil, something that deserves death, but after seeing her, I think she is really just a brainwashed child."
"We may be at war with a nation of brainwashed children who are capable of utterly evil things," said Morgan. "Don't worry. I won't kill her. I haven't decided about the other two.
"But I'm worried about that device they used to control the worms. We don't understand it yet, but it's clear the electronics is sophisticated, far beyond what we thought Deirdre Skye's faction was capable of. Either we underestimated her, or she has allies. Both possibilities are disturbing."
"She attempted suicide three times," said the doctor, "but each time we stopped her before she could do herself damage. She's quite ingenious, actually. It's not easy for a bedridden invalid to find a way to kill herself."
"How is she doing now?" asked Morgan.
"She's emotionally drained, but physically rested," said the doctor. "She's fit for interrogation."
"Thank you, Sam. Then we'll see her now," said Morgan. Morgan, Lucia, and the doctor entered the room and took their seats by the bed.
"Good morning, Moondance," said Morgan.
"Good morning," said Moondance automatically.
"I'd like to know you better, Moondance. In my society, you'd be considered too young for the military. Is it common for people as young as you to join the military where you come from?"
"No. I'm special. I'm a worm empath."
"And what is a worm empath?"
"Only a few people, sensitives, can operate the worm-controllers. In school, everyone has to take an empath test. Those who score high, like me, get sent to Planetsong, which is a sort of military academy. There we study worm control, tactics, and ecodoctrine. We aren't allowed to speak with anyone from the outside. I haven't seen my family in four years."
"How many students are at Planetsong?"
"Around fifty. There are more staff than students."
"Were you a good student? How did you compare to the others?"
"I was the best by far. I'm not bragging; that's just the way it was. No one else could control so many worms or direct them so precisely. No one else could go for so long without getting wormsick or recover from being wormsick as quickly."
"Wormsick?"
"That's when you've been directing the worms for a while and the worm thoughts get inside your head and you start thinking like a worm mass. Worms don't really think, but they have instincts, nasty instincts, especially when they swarm. Attack! Burrow through flesh! Eat the brain! Lay eggs! It's horrid. Some kids never get over it, and those are taken away from Planetsong. I don't know what happens to them."
"Could you tell me more about your life at Planetsong?"
"Most of our time is spent on ecodoctrine. They tell us it's important that we are totally committed to ecology so that we are willing to do hard things. But ecodoctrine is really boring. It's just the same stuff over and over. Then we spend a lot of time on tactics. That's fun. It's mostly running computer games, and you get to use your brain.
"When you first get to Planetsong, you learn how to handle a small clutch of worms, and then you work your way up to larger swarms and making them do more complicated things. At first you just make them move around, or you run them through mazes, things like that. Then you graduate to using them on field maneuvers in the back country. Everyone looks forward to that; it's our only chance to leave Planetsong for a while.
"When they decide you are really good, they put you on live targets. I hated that. The first few times they set up armored enclosures with animals in them and made me overwhelm the enclosures. I felt really sorry for the poor animals. Then they tried to set me on attacking enclosures with people, condemned criminals. They said they were really bad people who deserved to be eaten by worms and that I needed to show I was ready for war, but I wouldn't do it. I told them I had had enough practice already, and I had already proven that I was the best they had, but I wasn't going to use worms on our own people even if they were criminals."
"What do you know about the worm-control equipment? How does it work?"
"We just learn to operate it. I don't know anything about how it does what it does. They keep changing the equipment, but when the technicians come with new equipment, they just give us instructions on how to use it, not how it works. Sometimes I listened to them talk to each other to try to learn something, but mostly they use their own language, German, I think, so I didn't get much."
"German? Could it have been Russian?"
"Maybe. I can't tell the difference, Mr. Morgan."
"You can call me Nab if you want. Nab was my nickname as a boy. It's also the name of a character in Mysterious Island, by Jules Verne. Did you ever read it?"
"No. I wanted to, when I was eleven, but just when I was about to start it, they passed the Ecofriendly Thought laws, and all fiction that didn't promote ecological values was pulled from the net. You need special permission to read it now. I used to love to read, but there are hardly any stories worth reading anymore."
Morgan gestured to Lucia and a holographic globe of Chiron appeared above the bed. "Moondance, I need a geography lesson. Could you do that for me?" said Morgan.
Moondance nodded, and pointed out the features of her homeland on the globe.
When the "geography lesson" was complete, Morgan said, "Suicide won't fix any of the damage that has been done, you know. You've been driving poor doctor Sam and his staff frantic."
"But I deserve to die. I'm evil," said Moondance.
"You're in a new world, now. You can make a fresh start, have a new life. It's been done before."
"Oh! I wish that was true! But I can't live with what I've done. The guilt is worse than anything I can imagine, worse than wormsickness, worse than being eaten by worms, even. I have to die. It's the only way out."
On their way out of the hospital, Lucia said, "I hope we kill that ecobitch, Deirdre Skye."
Morgan said, "I concur. But the first order of business is to keep her from killing us. By the way, you are also free to call me Nab."
"Nab...how many people call you that?"
"Moondance now, I hope; you; Miriam Godwinson; some old friends. You count as a new old friend."
"Greetings, Pastor Reyes. How's the religion business going?" said Morgan.
"Quite well, Nwabudike. You should take out some stock now and get in on the ground floor."
"You're not having trouble adapting to all us sinners and unbelievers?"
"On the contrary, I find it refreshing. It's pretty boring back in the Conclave. Everyone there is already saved, so I don't have much of a job. Here, I get into a lot of fascinating arguments with unbelievers."
"I understand you've been out of town," said Morgan.
"Yes. Relief work in the north. What happened there was horrible, but it could easily have been far worse. I praise God the worms were stopped in time."
"You should also praise Captain Harmon."
"I never pass up a chance to praise God, but I praise Captain Harmon too. But I thought he was a lieutenant."
"He used to be," said Morgan. "Tell me, don't you get bored sometimes, dealing with our petty sins? Gluttony, sabbath-breaking, coveting the neighbor's wife...it hardly seems worthy of a man of your talents. I'll bet you can find all that back in the Conclave."
"I sense you have something in mind, Nwabudike," said Pastor Reyes.
"You know me too well," said Morgan. "I have in mind a sin as great as any I've seen in my long and sin-filled life. But she herself is not really evil."
"The worm girl," said Pastor Reyes.
"Yes. Will you do it?"
After a pause, Pastor Reyes said, "I shall need to pray for compassion, especially after what I've seen in the north. But yes, Nwabudike, I will."