Beetle Juice (12 page)

This did not sound like a trap. “Vanja,” Tod said.

Vanja jumped off Wetzel's head, transformed in mid air, and landed neatly on her feet, her scantily clad flesh bouncing. Red's eyes were locked onto each bounce, exactly as she intended. “I am a bat, but not only a bat,” she said. “I am a vampire.”

Red was visibly relieved. “Suck all the blood you want, you luscious creature,” he said. “Just don't eat the scarab.”

Meanwhile Tod caught Wetzel's eye, silently querying him. Wetzel was ready. Red's mind showed no subterfuge, no animosity, no trap. He was legitimate, and he did have a very serious concern with a beetle of some sort. It was not exactly a scarab, except in the sense that it was immensely valuable. In Tod's mind was the information that scarabs had been regarded as sacred by an ancient culture.

Wizard dismounted, and Wetzel converted to manform. Veee immediately tossed him undershorts, and he donned them as he spoke. “And I am Wetzel, a were-unicorn.” He did not mention telepathy; that seemed best omitted. “I will not need a stall.”

Red smiled. “The Amoeba is handling this in style. This way, please.” He turned, offering his arm to Vanja, who took it. Tod and Veee followed, satisfied to become background, and Wetzel and Wizard followed them.

The village consisted of red brick houses with red thatched roofs. A number of men were there, going about their business, not paying overt attention to the visiting party. But their minds were attuned; they we eager for the mission to proceed. The mission of saving the beetle.

Wetzel knew the other members of the team were as perplexed as he was, because he read their minds. Their job, after all this preparation, was to save a bug?

Their house was spacious and clean, with kitchen facilities and beds for five. It had running water and a picture window. This was not a primitive village.

“Settle in, get rested,” Red told them. “This evening I will brief you on the situation. We certainly hope you can help us.”

“We hope so too,” Tod said.

“We will certainly try,” Vanja said, kissing Red on the cheek. Wetzel felt the impact on the man's mind; Red was hungry for the favor of any woman, especially a beautiful one. Red departed, still feeling that kiss.

“This village has no women,” Veee said.

“I noticed,” Vanja said. “I could have seduced that man without even trying. Maybe I will, tonight.”

“There are no women,” Wetzel agreed. “Yet they are heterosexual men who crave female companionship. That is as far as I have been able to read, so far.”

“We can inquire during the briefing,” Wizard said. “Wetzel will get an answer even if they try to avoid it.”

They used the facilities, cleaning up and relaxing. “During the briefing,” Wizard said, “I believe we should be open minded but not demonstrate any more abilities than we have already.” He glanced at Wetzel.

Wetzel nodded. He would keep the telepathy secret. It was not something the villagers needed to know, and it was bound to be useful.

There was a knock on the door. A young man stood there, bearing a large covered platter. “Your dinner, if you please,” he said.

“Thank you,” Veee said, accepting it.

The man stood there, fidgeting.

Vanja approached him. “There is something more?”

“When—when Red brought you here, you—you kissed him.”

“Oh.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

He departed, dazed.

“They really, really need women here,” Vanja remarked.

“They seem well enough off,” Tod said. “Surely they could attract women, if they tried.”

“They aren't trying,” Wetzel said. “There's some reason they don't want women here, and it's not because they don't like them. I can't read any deeper, so far.”

“I really must seduce the mayor, and get the truth,” Vanja said. She glanced at Wetzel. “Don't worry; I'll seduce you too, later.”

Wetzel smiled. She was serious, and he had to agree with her: whatever information he couldn't get telepathically, she could probably get personally.

The food was excellent: bread, wine, eggs, vegetables, and pudding for dessert. There were five portions, accounting for all of them.

When they had eaten, the young man came again to remove the dishes. Vanja kissed him again, thrilling him again. “As payment goes, this is minimal,” she said.

Red returned. He settled himself on a chair and addressed them all. “Here is the situation: this is the neighborhood of the scarab, perhaps the rarest and most important beetle known. Here is a picture rendered by one of our artists.” He held up a painting.

“I'll be damned!” Tod said. “That's the Mandlebrot set!”

“The what?” Red asked.

“One of the most complicated and beautiful designs known,” Tod said. “It is derived mathematically. I'm not clear on the exact process, but I understand it is the plotting of a complex number geometrically. The border between the dark center and the light background takes the general form of a hairy bug, but it is vastly more than that. I used to get lost contemplating its detail pictures. The greater the magnification, the more complicated the pattern, seemingly without end. Every curlicue of its detail is anchored by a miniature bug like the original one, only much smaller. And that miniature bug has its own curlicues, ever more elaborate until the eye and mind boggle with the sheer wonder of it. That is this picture.”

“I don't know anything about all that,” Red said. “This is a picture of a living scarab that is incalculably precious. Its dead husk is used for jewelry. A live one is squished for its juice, which promotes human health and longevity. Some even say immortality. That's its real commercial value. That's why poachers steal it and sell it, becoming fabulously wealthy. That's why it is in imminent danger of extinction. When it is lost, the universe will be a worse place. We have to save it. That's why we prayed to the Amoeba, and why the Amoeba has answered with your team. Your mission is to save the beetle.”

Wetzel was aware of Tod's annoyance as his insight was sloughed off, but the man gave no outward sign. Wizard was similarly annoyed and similarly suppressed. Veee was intrigued by both Tod's description of the design and Red's description of the plight of the scarab. She was interested in art of any type and the mere suggestion of this complicated geometric set fascinated her, but she also had empathy for all living things. She would be the mediator.

“Of course we must save the scarab,” Veee agreed warmly. “Tell us more about it.”

Wetzel picked up how Red warmed to her. Naturally Vanja had impressed him initially, but Veee was female too, and not unattractive when allowance was made for her size and muscle. She could affect a man when she tried.

“The scarab is prettier than any picture can show,” Red said. “It scintillates with colors that go beyond what the eye can see. To gaze at it is to love it. But the predation has been so severe that now we seldom see one.”

“They have learned to hide,” Veee said.

“We hope so. Otherwise they are doomed.”

“I am not clear how we can save a beetle we can't find,” Tod said.

“It must be possible, or the Amoeba would not have sent you.”

“Maybe it is saving itself by hiding,” Veee said.

“Yet that will not be enough,” Red said. “If they could remain hidden all the time, maybe then it would work. But they can't.”

“Why not?” Veee asked gently, somehow making it seem like support rather than challenge.

“They are a dual-habitat creature.” Then, seeing their blankness, Red explained. “They have a complicated life cycle, and can reproduce only in the normal universe, on a planet orbiting a star in the vicinity of Betelgeuse. Then they enter the Amoeba and mature. RedBrick Village is by the gateway: the trail that connects the scarab's world to the Amoeba. They are safe here, but not on their home world, which is where the poachers trap them. If they could reproduce here they could be saved, but they can't.”

“There is no law forbidding poaching?” Tod asked.

“It's an unsettled planet, set aside as a scarab preserve. Intrusion is forbidden. But the poachers know no law. They sneak in, catch the beetles, and escape before the authorities can stop them. They are well armed, so that when they are caught, they simply blast apart the ranger's ships and escape anyway.”

“We have poachers like that in my frame,” Tod said. “They go after rare wild animals, and they kill anyone who tries to stop them.”

“Exactly,” Red agreed. “The planet is too big to police completely. Many poachers are caught and killed, but the scarab is so valuable that there are always more, just as vicious. I'd like to kill them all, but that's hopeless. As long as the scarab exists, there will be poachers. Too many people are desperate for the health and longevity the beetle juice provides. The beetles live a long time; they may even be immortal, as we have never heard of one dying naturally. But the poachers kill them.”

“How did they come here?” Veee asked.

“The Amoeba brought them in, to save them, centuries ago. We maintain the local habitat so that it is ideal for them. But it's not enough.”

“I am not clear why they can reproduce only on their home world, if the Amoeba's habitat is ideal,” Wizard said.

“They are mostly females,” Red said. “We believe that males are rarely hatched, maybe only once a century, and that occurs only on the home world. We've never seen a male, but it must be spectacular.”

“Indeed,” Veee agreed warmly.

“There is one other thing,” Red said. “We suspect they are telepathic. That's how they know to avoid people.”

None of the team gave any sign, but all were electrified by the news. Now it was clear why Wetzel had been summoned.

“We will see what we can do,” Tod said. “We'll think about the problem.”

“This is not a time for thinking,” Red said sharply. “It's the time for action.”

“We must consider ways and means,” Wizard said. “At this point we don't know what is appropriate. Inappropriate action would be worse than no action.”

“We are sure you understand,” Veee said. “We do very much value your help.”

Red thawed somewhat. “Yes, of course.”

“Meanwhile you can explain why there are no women in your village,” Vanja said, flashing him with her flexible décolletage. “Healthy men like you should have women flocking.”

“It is not entirely by choice,” Red said, properly mesmerized by that décolletage. “The local colony is all female, and they don't seem to understand about things like, well, mating. They pick up our emotions and are repelled. So to make it possible to approach the scarabs, we have to eschew any such relations. We can indulge in them only well away from the local preserve. Thus we have segregated villages, all male and all female.” He took a heavy breath. “It's hell. Worse, we do not get along with our closest female neighbor, who guards the access to the scarab's home turf. There have been unfortunate episodes.”

Wetzel picked up on it. Stray women caught by the desperately sex-hungry men had been tied, bug-sprayed, and gang raped. The women had reciprocated in kind tying men to trees and making them service women for food or to avoid torture. Use it or lose it was literal. So they got sex, but not love. There were some “dates” where individual men and women made deals and met beyond the beetles' range to indulge, but these were fraught with complications.

“So I can't go with you and make you deliriously happy for a few minutes,” Vanja said. “It would repel the bugs.”

“That is true,” Red said, tearing his gaze away. “I will leave you to your considerations.” He departed.

Tod turned immediately to Wetzel. “What did you get?”

“He's telling the truth. The local villages are strictly same-sex and they don't like it but have to do it. When a man can't stand it any longer, he departs and resumes normal heterosexual activity far away.”

“Why do they stay even briefly?” Vanja asked.

“They are very well paid in coins and goods,” Wetzel said. “And it is an honor to serve here.”

“But if the beetle goes extinct, they will have no job,” Tod said.

“So they have incentive, apart from being dedicated to the welfare of the beetle,” Wizard said.

“They have incentive,” Wetzel agreed. “They truly want to save the scarab.”

“Then it behooves us to facilitate their effort,” Wizard said. “The question is, how?”

“I have a more immediate one,” Vanja said. “How can I make out with Wetzel, or Tod with Veee, here in the village?”

They considered that, not pleased.

“Do we have to honor the rules of the village?” Tod asked.

“We should,” Wizard said. “Apart from the fact that we do want to be able to get close enough to the scarabs to be able to do them some good.”

“I'll go crazy,” Vanja said.

Wizard smiled. “I understood that was your normal state.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. How do we really know the bugs can't tolerate sex? That's just the opinion of the villagers. Besides which, if the bugs are near extinction there may not be any around here close enough anyway.”

Wetzel got up and went silently to Tod. “Something else,” he murmured in the man's ear so that only he could hear. “They have something they call a radio planted here, but I don't think it grows.”

A radio bug!
Tod thought immediately.
A little machine, a device to listen to what is said, and send it to a receiver elsewhere in the village, so they know what we say.”

“Also a silent alarm on the door,” Wetzel murmured.

So they know if we try to leave. They don't trust us at all.

Wetzel returned to his place, knowing that Tod would handle the information as he saw fit. The others did not comment or give any sign, knowing Wetzel had picked up on something.