Micro - Michael Crichton [116]
Rick tried to calm him. “We’ll get you medical help. We’re nearly at Tantalus…”
“I’m dying!”
“They won’t kill you. They’re parasites. They want to keep you alive.”
“Why?”
“So they can keep feeding—”
“Oh, God, oh, God…”
Karen picked him up. “Come on. You gotta keep moving.”
They resumed walking, but Danny was slowing them down. He kept stumbling and sitting down. He couldn’t take his eyes off his arm, as if the grubs had hypnotized him.
Halfway across the ground they came to a round tube made of blobs of clay stuck together. The tube emerged from the ground, like a bent chimney.
Karen said, “I wish Erika was here. She might have been able to tell us what made it.”
They had to assume the mud chimney held something dangerous, probably some kind of insect. They gave the chimney a wide berth, ready to dash for cover if anything moved. As they passed it, the Great Boulder drew closer.
She was a mother. Like a butterfly, she drank only the nectar of flowers for her sustenance. Even so, she was a predator. She hunted for her babies; they lived on meat. Like all predators she was intelligent, capable of learning, with an excellent memory. In fact, she had nine brains. They consisted of one master brain and eight minor brains, strung out along her spinal cord like beads on a string. Among insects, she was one of the smartest.
She had mated once with her husband, who had dropped dead after having sex with her. She was a queen, who lived her entire life in isolation. She was a solitary wasp.
She emerged from her chimney and looked at the sun. Her head came out first, followed by her body. Her wings normally lay folded and flat across her back, like a folded fan. She unfolded her wings and vibrated them, letting her muscles warm up in the sunlight.
As the wasp climbed out of the chimney, the humans froze. She was truly enormous, with a jointed abdomen splashed with yellow and black stripes. The wasp unfolded its wings and beat them, thundering, and took off into the air, its legs dangling beneath it.
“Get down!”
“Lie flat!”
The humans threw themselves to the ground and began crawling toward whatever sort of cover they could find, scraps of grass, pebbles.
The wasp didn’t notice the humans at first. After she launched herself from her chimney, however, she began flying in a zigzag pattern, orienting herself for a hunting flight. During the orientation phase, she looked down at the ground, inspecting every detail. She kept a precise map of the terrain fixed in her memory.
She saw something new.
Three objects occupied the ground at the southeast quadrant away from her chimney. The objects were alive. They were crawling across the ground. They looked like prey.
She immediately changed her flight path and swooped in.
The wasp turned and dove down very fast. It chose Rick Hutter, and landed on him.
He rolled over on his back, waving his machete, while the wasp straddled him with her legs. Her wings beat over him. She caught him lightly in her mandibles.
“Rick!” Karen shouted, running toward him, machete raised.
He couldn’t breathe. The mandibles had driven the air out of his chest. But somehow they didn’t cut through him. The wasp was being gentle.
Then she curled her abdomen underneath her and brought her sting forward, aimed at Rick. Armor plates at the jointed tip of her abdomen pulled apart, and two soft fingers, covered with sensory hairs, emerged, waving and wagging. These soft fingers were the sting palps. The palps dabbled over Hutter’s neck and face, tasting his skin.
She liked what she tasted.
The sting happened very fast. Two stingers inside a sheath emerged from a hole beneath the taste palps. As the sheath drilled into Rick just under his armpit, the stingers lanced into him, first one and then the other, sliding back and forth in tandem as they worked inward.
Rick felt the needles go into him. The pain was