Страница 67 из 89
A second image joined the floating samlon. "This was clinging to Hendrick's Skeeter. Sorry about the head. We clubbed it to death. It's still the best sample we've got. You can see it's over a meter long. Note that the dorsal fins have atrophied, and the ventral have thickened and begun changing into legs. The flexible beaklike jaws have differentiated into teeth. The speed sac behind the lungs is begi
The third image was Cassandra's graphic representation of an adult grendel.
Sylvia cleared her throat. "There are equations in the literature. We ran them through Cassie and we got some graphs." The fourth image appeared: a three-dimensional graph chart that glowed like a range of neon mountains. "It's not a lot of help. We're missing some of the numbers, but what's happening is clear enough.
"Adult grendels are all female. Tadpoles are males. Most don't get much chance to demonstrate it because they get eaten. The grendels lay lots of eggs. The eggs turn into tiny samlon. The little samlon go away and eat the local scum until they turn into big samlon. The grendels eat big samlon.
"Now, evolution says there will be more grendels if grendels eat something other than their own children. The grendels will eat anything rather than samlon. They must have exterminated everything within reach of water long before we came. They were back to eating nothing but samlon. It's been a stable situation for hundreds of years, or thousands, or conceivably millions. The flyers have had time to adapt, and we should have noticed that too."
"Yes!" Mary A
"We've—" Suddenly Sylvia laughed. The incoherent wave of sound that rolled across her audience was ugly. Nothing was fu
"Sorry," Sylvia said, and laughed again. "We've ruined the ecology, is what we've done! First we introduce new food sources. We won't be finding many catfish now. Then we killed all the adults. Mama hasn't been around to eat the samlon. Now it's spring, and all the samlon are growing up into grendels. The number of adolescent grendels is going to be far larger than the equilibrium population."
"Holy shit," Gregory Clifton whispered; but everybody heard. It had gone deathly quiet.
Mary A
"What? Oh. Shit." Sylvia rubbed her temples. "Sorry. She's right, of course. They need a continuous food source, so they must lay eggs continually. This could have happened any time of year. We took out all the adults, so the samlon are all growing up."
Cadma
"How many grendels are we going to get?" Greg asked nervously.
"That is difficult to predict. We haven't tried to fold in the rate at which grendels kill each other. The one thing that we can be sure of is that in killing the grendels we have unleashed an even greater threat.
"We've got at least two things going for us. First, the grendels eat grendels. They'll fight for territory too. Clearly they'd rather eat someone else's children than their own. Evolution again. Second, we've been fishing. We've fished out the local environment. The majority of adolescent grendels haven't discovered us yet. They will. Before they do—" Sylvia shrugged. "It's Cadma
The hall murmured. Cadma
Zack took the stand again.
"We have considerable evidence that even after the metamorphosis is complete, the samlon and grendels need water. I propose the use of a biodegradable toxin. We rescue what catfish we can and use our present breeding pond as a water supply. We poison the Miskatonic at its headwaters—"
Jerry shook his head. "That's a wonderful idea, Zack. Unfortunately, we didn't come here to poison Avalon, and we're just not set up for it. The best we could do is pump some of the heavy-metal industrial wastes into the water. That won't kill them quickly, but would definitely kill us slowly. No go."
"What about the Geographic?" Carolyn McAndrew's voice was cracking. "Can't we evacuate up there?" Her face was tight, and Cadma
"We all saw what one of them did to us before," Carolyn shouted. "Who are we kidding? There's no way in hell we can fight this. I say it's time to quit."
"Quit?" Phyllis asked softly. "Quit and do what?"
Carolyn stuttered for a moment. She sca
Stu stood, and spoke regretfully. "We can't do that, Carolyn. Geographic has life support for about twenty colonists for about a week. Then the oxygen recyclers will go to shit. You forget—we've been disassembling the ship for almost two years... "
"Cryogenics. We can freeze—" Her mouth worked wordlessly, then the realization hit her. "Oh, no. Hibernation Instability."
Phyllis reached up to Carolyn's shoulder. "Sit down, hon."
Carolyn shook the hand off. Her shoulders trembled.
Zack's face had something of the old strength in it, and even a grimly humorous curl to his lips. "This is it, Carolyn. No Fort Apache to reach. No bugle call. No way home. We fight and win, or we all die. And it's time to turn to the experts. Colonel Weyland?"
Carolyn collapsed into her seat. The room was swept by a flurry of whispers. The implications of putting Cadma
Cadma
"Please take the podium."
"Yes, sir." Suck up that gut. Get your back straight. Cadma
"Meanwhile, all Colony defenses go into effect. All the other women will retreat to the Bluff with enough tools and equipment to improve fortifications there. Get to packing."
The room was silent for a long moment. "Without the crops here, we'll starve," Jerry said.
True, but you didn't have to say it. "There's food in Geographic. We found some things to eat in the highlands. The trick now is to get through the next few weeks." After which there won't be as many mouths to feed.
Sylvia raised her hand. "We need to capture a few grendels. Get them up to Geographic, where we can work on biological weapons."
"Sure you can handle a live grendel? Damn dangerous thing to do."
"We'll work on cages. Maybe we can catch samlon that are just changing. We need the information."
"Agreed if you can do it. Stu—handle that? Report to me before we try anything. Nobody risks a Minerva or the ship without direct approval from me. Nobody. Zack, you confirm that?"
"Uh—yes. Yes, he's right."
"What's the point?" Carolyn screamed shrilly. "Everything we do just makes it worse. What's the point in fighting? There's no safety—" Tears streamed hotly down her face.
Mary A
She was taking it in with immense calm. She held Jessica tightly. The child's thin, short blond hair was as pale as spun glass.
"How can you know?" Carolyn shouted. "Mary A