Somebody started to say something to that. Lizard cut him off. "I'm not going to defend that. We do know that the renegades have pirate terminals. We do know that they have access to ordnance. I suspect that's how we've been losing our telepaths. The only thing that may have protected Captain McCarthy's life is the fact that we've kept him out of the data banks."

General Wainright was still working with his clipboard. He said abruptly, "It says here, that a Lieutenant James Edward McCarthy was killed in battle fourteen months ago. Is this the same man?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"It also says here that he may still be alive, but a deserter. Is that correct?"

"If you'll look, I put that note in myself. That's part of Captain McCarthy's cover. We had no way of knowing who had access to that file. We had to give him what cover we could. Other than that, there has been no direct contact between Captain McCarthy and the agency since that time. He let us know when he wanted to come back in."

General Wainright looked unconvinced. "What is it you're trying to get at, General?"

"I'm not trying to get at anything, Colonel. All I want is some validation for this man's credential. Obviously, this is Captain McCarthy. He's not dead yet. But is he what you say he is-one of your agents--0r is he a deserter who will say whatever you need to have said to prove your point?" He added. "No offense intended, of course."

Lizard smiled. Her smile was deadly. "And none taken. You can't insult me. However, you do insult the intelligence of this body if you suggest that they can be so easily gulled." Lizard indicated the room.

The president interrupted then. "General, please-I respect your commitment to the truth. But this isn't producing results. I want to hear what Captain McCarthy has to say. We can question his judgment, intelligence, sanity, and moral character afterward." Her eyes were twinkling. "That's the way we always did it in Congress, and that's the way we will do it here."

She said to Lizard, "Colonel? You may continue."

Lizard poked me. "Stand up." She continued, "Captain McCarthy was assigned to routine reconnaissance in California. That was a cover. His real purpose was to infiltrate a renegade Tribe. As intended, Captain McCarthy allowed himself to be captured and taken prisoner. He was given the choice of collaborating or dying. He chose to collaborate. That is, he pretended to collaborate. Part of what he had to do to win the trust of the renegades was to teach them how to access classified information and how to use restricted military ordnance." Lizard held up a hand to cut off General Wainright who looked ready to explode. "Sir, if you please-McCarthy knew what he was doing. He didn't reveal any information which had not already been compromised. If that band of renegades didn't know it, they would have known it soon enough-as soon as they plugged into the Chtorrans' communication network."

The president interrupted then. "Elizabeth, would you also explain about that. I think some of the people here may be unfamiliar with that phenomenon."

Colonel Tirelli nodded. "It has been demonstrated that the worms do have some form of communication. When we began using P-beam weapons against Chtorran infestations, they began using shredded metal particles in the construction of their domes. P-beams were used only on the east coast, yet we began seeing metal foil shreddings in worm construction all over the country within three weeks. By six weeks, it was standard. Somehow, information spreads from infestation to infestation, but we don't know what the mechanism is yet. We don't think it's through the human interface, because we discovered P-beam defenses in huts whose Chtorran inhabitants had no human contact at all.

"I need to return to the subject of the human-Chtorrarr interface. Captain McCarthy here has actually seen the Chtorrans and humans communicating. He will describe the process, and how it's initiated. Jim?" She shoved me forward.

"Uh-" I began. "It's more than communication. It's a relationship. You don't just talk to a worm . . . you, uh, marry it." There were some snorts from some of the senior officers around the table.

"Shut up, Willy!" the president snapped. "He's telling you why your boys haven't had any results. You'd do well to pay attention. Go ahead, Captain."

"Thank you, Ma'am," I said. "What I saw was difficult at first to understand. The Tribe I was with-I use the word Tribe because that's what they were-they had a chief who focused their energies, he made the decisions for them. He was as charismatic as a movie star. It was like he glowed in the light.

"And they had a witch. That's the only word I can think to describe what she did: it was some kind of mystical aura. Jason was the focus for the energy, but Jessie was the real power source. I think she was the one who really understood what was going on, but she didn't have the personal magnetism Jason did, so Jason was the leader, but she was the-what do you call it, manager?"

The president smiled grimly. "In politics, we call them handlers. Go on."

"Anyway, I only saw her do this once, but she acted as a kind of Earth Mother or goddess or midwife. She took Jason into the barn. Everybody waited. I didn't know what was happening. When he came out, he was carrying a worm baby. There was a lot of celebration and cheering then. This was the smallest worm I'd ever seen. It was about the size of a large cat. He was feeding it pieces of raw meat. I got the sense that the creature was being imprinted with his identity.

"At the point at which the cub was willing to follow Jason everywhere, we knew the imprinting was complete. It was then introduced to the rest of the worms in the tribe. They treated it with curiosity, but it was a detached curiosity, as if they didn't know who it was. But that was only at first. Over the course of the next few weeks, they become as familiar with it as if they were all lovers. I noticed that there were many times when all of the worms would retire together into their own chamber. They would writhe together for a while, as if they were making love, and then they would go torpid together.

"But it wasn't torpidity. There was something else going on. It was some kind of communication linkup, I don't know the mechanics of it . . ."

"We're already studying that," said Dr. Zymph. "Go on."

"Well, that's pretty much it. At my first opportunity, I slipped away from the band."

"This was when?" interrupted General Wainright. He was blustery and had a red face.

"Five months ago," I said.

"How come we didn't have this information sooner."

Lizard put in. "It took a while for Captain McCarthy to reestablish communication in a way that would not compromise his cover. Gentlemen, Captain McCarthy is officially dead. He knew that if he showed up on the network again, he would be risking his life if he ever again came in contact with renegades."

"I'd like to hear that from Captain McCarthy," the general said. "I've already heard from you, Colonel Tirelli." He looked at me expectantly.

"Uh, well-sir, because of the nature of the circumstances, I didn't have certainty on the nature of the human-worm interface. The only communication I saw at first was a combination of hand signals, whistles, and one-word commands. At first, it appeared to me that the worms were being trained like very intelligent dogs. It wasn't until later that I realized that what I was seeing was a mutually beneficial partnership."

"These were the ones who attacked Family?" he asked.

"Uh-" How did he know about that? "-Yes, sir."

The general looked skeptical. "And was Captain Duke Anderson there too? I'm not clear about his participation. It says here, he's on the permanently disabled list; but I've also got a death certificate for him. I fail to see how . . ."