The War Against the Chtorr

Book 1

A Matter for Men

David Gerrold

Acknowledgments

The following people have provided valuable support and made significant contributions to this book:

Dennis Ahrens

Jack Cohen

Diane Duane

Richard Fontana

Harvey and Johanna Glass

Robert and Ginny Heinlein

Don Hetsko

Rich Sternbach

Tom Swale

Linda Wright

For Robert and Ginny Heinlein, with love

Chtorr (ktor) n. 1. The planet Chtorr, presumed to exist within 30 light-years of Earth. 2. The star system in which the planet occurs; a red giant star, presently unidentified. 3. The ruling species of the planet Chtorr; generic. 4. In formal usage, either one or many members of same; a Chtorr, the Chtorr. (See Chtor-ran) 5. The glottal chirruping cry of a Chtorr.

Chtor-ran (ktor-en) adj. 1. Of or relating to either the planet or the star system, Chtorr. 2. Native to Chtorr. n. 1. Any creature native to Chtorr. 2. In common usage, a member of the primary species, the (presumed) intelligent life form of Chtorr. (pl. Chtor-rans)

-The Random House Dictionary of the English Language, Century 21 Edition, unabridged

ONE

"MCCARTHY, keep down!"

"Yes, sir."

"-and shut up."

I shut. There were five of us climbing up the slope of a sparsely wooded ridge. We angled diagonally through high yellow grass so dry it crunched. July had not been kind to Colorado. A spark would turn these mountains into an inferno.

Just before each man reached the top he sprawled flat against the slope, then inched slowly forward. Duke was in the lead, wriggling through the tall weeds like a snake. We'd topped five hills this way today and the heat was getting to me. I thought about ice water and the jeep we'd left back on the road.

Duke edged up to the crest and peered down into the valley beyond. One at a time, Larry, Louis and Shorty moved up beside him. I was the last-as usual. The others had thoroughly read the land by the time I crawled into place. Their faces were grim.

Duke grunted. "Larry, pass me the binoculars."

Larry rolled onto his left side to unstrap the case from his right hip. Wordlessly, he passed them over.

Duke inspected the land below as carefully as a wolf sniffing a trap. He grunted again, softly, then passed the binoculars back.

Now Larry surveyed the scene. He took one glance, then passed the binoculars on to Louis.

What were they looking at? This valley looked the same to me as all the others. Trees and rocks and grass. I didn't see anything more. What had they spotted?

"You agree?" asked Duke.

"It's worms," said Larry.

"No question," Louis added.

Worms! At last! I took the glasses from Shorty and scanned the opposite slope.

A stream curled through ragged woods that looked as if they had been forested recently. And badly. Stumps and broken branches, ragged sections of trunk, huge woody slabs of bark, and the inevitable carpet of dead leaves and twigs were scattered unevenly across the hill. The forest looked as if it had been chewed up and spit out again by some rampaging, but finicky, prehistoric herbivore of gargantuan proportions and appetite.

"No, down there," rumbled Shorty. He pointed.

I put my eyes to the glasses again. I still didn't see; the bottom of the valley was unusually barren and empty, but-no, wait a minute, there it was-I had almost missed it-directly below us, near a large stand of trees; a pasty-looking igloo and a larger circular enclosure. The walls of it sloped inward. It looked like an unfinished dome. Was that all?

Shorty tapped me on the shoulder then and took the binoculars away. He passed them back to Duke, who had switched on the recorder. Duke cleared his throat as he put the glasses to his eyes, and then began a detailed description of the scene. He spoke in soft, machine-gun bursts-a rapid monotone report. He read off landmarks as if he were knocking items off a checklist. "Only one shelter-and it looks fairly recent. No sign of any other starts-I'd guess only one family, so far-but they must expect to expand. They've cleared a pretty wide area. Standard construction on the dome and corral. Corral walls are about ... two and a half-no, make that three-meters high. I don't think there's anything in it yet. I-" He stopped, then breathed softly. "Damn."

"What is it?" asked Larry. Duke passed him the binoculars.

Larry looked. It took a moment for him to find the point of Duke's concern, then he stiffened. "Aw, Christ, no-"

He passed the binoculars to Louis. I sweated impatiently. What had he seen? Louis studied the view without comment, but his expression tightened.

Shorty handed the glasses directly to me. "Don't you want to look-" I started, but he had closed his eyes as if to shut out me and the rest of the world as well.

Curious, I swept the landscape again. What had I missed the first time?

I focused first on the shelter-nothing there. It was a badly crafted dome of wood chips and wood-paste cement. I'd seen pictures of them. Close up, its surface would be rough, looking as if it had been sculpted with a shovel. This one was bordered by some kind of dark vegetation, patches of black stuff that clumped against the dome. I shifted my attention to the enclosure "Huh?"

-she couldn't have been more than five or six years old. She was wearing a torn, faded brown dress and had a dirt smudge across her left cheek and scabs on both knees, and she was hopskipping along the wall, trailing one hand along its uneven surface. Her mouth was moving-she was singing as she skipped. As if she had nothing to fear at all. She circled with the wall, disappeared from view for a moment, then reappeared along the opposite curve. I sucked in my breath. I had a niece that age.

"Jim-the glasses." That was Larry; I passed them back. Duke was unslinging his pack, divesting himself of all but a grapple and a rope.

"Is he going after her?" I whispered to Shorty. Shorty didn't answer. He still had his eyes closed.

Larry was sweeping the valley again. "It looks clear," he said, but his tone indicated his doubt.

Duke was tying the grapple to his belt. He looked up. "If you see anything, use the rifle."

Larry lowered the binoculars and looked at him-then nodded. "Okay," said Duke. "Here goes nothing." He started to scramble over the top

"Hold it-" That was Louis; Duke paused. "I thought I saw something move-that stand of trees."

Larry focused the binoculars. "Yeah," he said, and handed them up to Duke, who scrambled around to get a better view. He studied the blurring shadows for a long moment; so did I, but I couldn't tell what they were looking at. Duke slid back down the slope to rest again next to Larry.

"Draw straws?" Larry asked.

Duke ignored him; he was somewhere else. Someplace unpleasant.

"Boss?"

Duke came back. He had a strange expression-hard-and his mouth was tight. "Pass me the piece" was all he said.

Shortly unshouldered the 7mm Weatherby he had been carrying all morning and afternoon, but instead of passing it over, he laid it down carefully in the grass, then backed off down the slope. Louis followed him.

I stared after them. "Where're they going?"

"Shorty had to take a leak," snapped Larry; he was pushing the rifle over to Duke.

"But Louis went too-"

"Louis went to hold his hand." Larry picked up the binoculars again, ignoring me. He said, "Two of 'em, boss, maybe three."