Minutes to Burn

Derek clamped his teeth, raising the corners of his jaw. He crossed the circle of the fire pit and crouched, bringing his face inches from Sav-age's. Savage took his time looking up at him, finishing the pattern he'd been tracing in the dirt with his heel before meeting Derek's eyes apa-thetically.

Derek raised a hand to rest on Savage's shoulder but evidently thought the better of it. Wise choice. He spoke calmly. "I will not have this mission compromised because you want to play bad new kid on the block. You push me about one more inch and I will have no reservation about skulling you and leaving you out here to rot."

A pulse was beating in Derek's temple. Savage watched it work as Derek fought to maintain composure. He met Derek's eyes, refusing to blink until Derek stepped back. He'd known Derek would step back. He tilted his head, sniffing the air. "I can smell it on you," he said. "Weak-ness. You've lost your killing nerve."

"Try me," Derek said. "Just you fuckin' try me."

As Derek walked away, Savage pulled his knife from the ankle sheath, flipped it once in the air, and tossed it at Derek. Derek stum-bled back to get out of the way, and it stuck in the log. "Sure thing, LT," Savage said.

Cameron reached over, pried the knife from the log, and lofted it over her shoulder at Savage. He stepped back out of the way and plucked it from the air.

"Believe it or not," Cameron said, still not turning to face him, "we're really not all that impressed with knife tricks here."

Savage stood foolishly holding his knife.

Szabla's voice broke through Derek's transmitter after he activated it.

"Mitchell. Szabla. We found something. You'd better grab the pencil necks and head uphill."

Diego carried the larva into his tent to secure it in its cruise box. Rex stood excitedly, screwing the cap onto the small fuel bottle as he headed for the forest.

Savage stuffed two more forkfuls of potato into his mouth and stuck the gum and matches into a pocket on his cammies. By the time he turned to go, the others had already disappeared into the trees.

The ootheca vibrated on its root, sending a spill of dirt trickling from the roof of the lava tube. Cameron stepped back toward the sunlight, glad that Derek had cut the ferns that covered the entrance. Savage had yet to arrive.

Justin peered down the dark hole of the shaft and shivered. "How long is this tunnel?"

"It's a lava tube," Diego said softly. "We're standing at the southern entrance. It runs about three hundred and fifty meters before finding its way back up through the forest floor."

The paperlike covering of the ootheca's last closed chamber split down the center.

"Jesus," Cameron said. "It's hatching."

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" Derek asked.

"It's an ootheca of some sort," Diego said hesitantly. "It resembles that of a mantid, but it's much larger, and with fewer chambers."

"It's like an oversize variation on the ootheca we found in Frank's camp. The one he sketched." Rex raised his fingers, running them along the hard line of his jaw. "Why only eight chambers? Why not two hundred fifty-something?"

"I don't know." Diego shook his head. "It looks like this animal, whatever it is, has fewer offspring, but places more resources in them. Better equips them to survive."

A slick green head emerged from the chamber, wiggling and pulling a tadpole-like body out behind it. It was weakened and stunted. Writhing in its membranous sac, it lowered slowly on its thread. Spellbound, they watched it descend. The larva managed to break its head and thorax free from its sac, but its prolegs were still pasted to its abdominal segments. One of its true legs was misshapen; the others looked shriveled and use-less.

It was sure to die.

"That's it. That's our thing we have back at the camp," Justin said, as if the thought hadn't occurred to anyone else. Shaking off a shiver, Tucker took a step back, his hand instinctively digging for the hard metal cylin-der of the thermite grenade buried deep in the cargo pocket of his cammy pants.

"It's hatching like a mantid," Rex said, rolling the fuel bottle between his hands. "But mantid nymphs don't look like this. They're usually just smaller versions of adults."

"I found this, too," Szabla said, holding out the mandible from the forest floor.

Diego examined it. "It's one of the larvae's sawing mouthparts. A mandible." Even the meager light left a sheen on his forehead. He glanced back up at the ootheca. "There are more of them," he said, his voice colored with both excitement and concern.

"If there's one larva for each chamber, that means there are eight of them," Rex said, stepping forward and touching a finger to the side of the egg sac. "At least from this ootheca. We have one locked safely in the cruise box at camp, the one whose mandible Szabla found, this one hatching, and there's presumably another that didn't make it." He pointed to the corner of the cave where several mouthparts lay.