Chapter 8 Chapter Six

I felt like I was going to throw up right away.The thought of that thing crawling behind me in a closed car all the way back from Iowa made my stomach sick.I'm not much of a vomit - I once hid in a sewer for four days - but this stuff!You don't know how seeing one affects you until you see it and know what it is. Fighting back my nausea, I said, "Let's see how we can get this thing off. Maybe we can save Jarvis." I didn't really think so; I had a hunch deep down that anyone who was possessed by this thing was ruined, ruined forever.I guess I have a bit of a superstitious notion that this thing "soul-eating" - of course, I have no idea what that means myself.

The old man waved us back, "Stop talking about Jarvis!" "But--" "Stop nagging! It's okay to take a little longer if he survives. In any case—" He stopped abruptly, and I didn't say anything else.I know what he means.The principle of personal supremacy no longer applies to Jarvis.We are sacrificial, the American people are not. Forgive me for what I said above.I like Jarvis. The old man cautiously continued to watch the unconscious agent and the things on his back, pistol in hand.He said to Mary, "Get the President on the screen, special number 0007."

Mary walked over to his desk and complied.I heard her talking into the sound-isolating receiver, but my focus remained on the parasite. The parasite remained motionless, did not leave its host, but pulsated slowly, with disgusting ripples spreading around. Moments later, Mary reported, "Can't reach him, sir. One of his assistants is on the screen." "Which assistant?" "Mr. McDonough." The old man was a little reluctant to see him, and so was I.McDonough is an agent and a likable guy who is polite and has an opinion on everything.The president uses him as a cushion.

The old man yelled and didn't even turn on the soundproof function of the earpiece. No, the president is not here.No, the news won't reach him.No, Mr. McDonough did not exceed his authority; the President had made it clear that the Don was not on the special list—of course, there was no such list, and Mr. McDonough would certainly not admit to it.Yes, he'd be happy to arrange an appointment; anyway, he'd be willing to squeeze the old man in and get what he said.How about next Friday?Nowadays?Totally impossible.tomorrow?Also impossible. The old man turned off the screen, I thought he was about to have a stroke.But after a while, he took two deep breaths and his face relaxed.He plodded toward us and said, "Dave, go quietly down the hall and ask Dr. Graves to come in. The rest of you keep your distance and be alert."

After a while, the director of the biology laboratory came in, wiping his hands when he came in. "Doctor," said the old man, "here's one alive." Graves looked at Jarvis, then looked more closely at Jarvis's back. "Interesting," he said, "so peculiar." He got down on one knee. "lean back." Graves looks up at him, "But I've got to have a chance—" It's perfectly reasonable. "Chance, chance shit! Listen—I'm letting you study this thing, which is good, but that's not the most important purpose. First, you have to keep this thing alive. Second, you can't let it get away. Three, you have to protect yourself."

Graves smiled. "I'm not afraid of this thing. I—" "Afraid of this thing! This is an order." "I think we had to install an incubator to keep it after we removed it from its host. The last specimen was dead and we didn't have much opportunity to study its composition and chemistry, but one thing is obvious, This thing needs oxygen. You smothered that one. Don't get me wrong, not the oxygen in the air, but the oxygen in the host. Maybe a big dog would suffice." "No," said the old man sternly, "stay where you are." "Huh?" Graves looked surprised, "Is this person a volunteer?"

The old man didn't answer.Graves continued: "Participants in human experiments have to be volunteers. You know, it's professional ethics." Those who engage in science stick to the rules and never dare to cross the threshold half a step.The old man calmed himself down and said in a soft voice: "Dr. Graves, as long as it is a task I deploy, every agent in this department is a volunteer. Please carry out my orders. Get a stretcher and take Jia Wes get out. Be careful." After they pushed Jarvis away, the old man let us break up.Davidson, Mary and I are going to the lounge for a drink, maybe four.We need a drink.Davidson was still shaking.

It didn't get any better after the first drink, and I said, "Look, Dave, I feel sorry for those girls as much as you do—but there's no way. Come on out; it's no workaround." "Is it scary?" Mary asked. "Pretty scary. I don't know how many we killed, maybe six, maybe a dozen. No time to be cautious. We didn't shoot people, at least, we didn't intend to kill people. We shot parasites ’ I turned to Davidson, “Do you understand that?” He seemed to perk up a little. "That's right. They're not people," he went on. "I think I could shoot my own brothers if the job required it. But these things, they're not people. You shoot at them and they come at you." .They don't—" He paused.

All I can feel is pity.After a while, he got up and went to the outpatient department to get an injection to relieve his pain. Mary and I talked for a while longer, trying to find out, but to no avail.Then she said she was sleepy and went to the women's dormitory to rest. The old man had ordered all personnel to sleep in the office that night, so, after a nightcap, I went to the men's quarters in the annex and got into my sleeping bag. I didn't fall asleep right away: I could hear the muffled rumble of the city above us.I've always wondered what Des Moines would look like in its current state.

The alarm woke me up.I stumbled into my clothes as the siren faded away.Then, the old man shouted loudly from the internal communication system, "Anti-gas and anti-radiation procedures! Seal all places—all personnel gather in the conference room. Action!" As a field agent, I have no local assignments and am an extra.I walked slowly down the tunnel from the living area to the office area.The old man was in the hall with a grim expression on his face.I wanted to ask him what was the matter, but there were a dozen staff, agents, stenographers, and others who were there before me, and I figured I'd better not ask.After a while, the old man sent me to get the entry record from the guard on duty.

The old man called the roll himself.Obviously, all the living people who have signed have come to the meeting room at present, from the old man's old private secretary, Miss Hines, to the waiters in the department lounge, everyone has arrived, except for the guards on duty and Jarvis.Records are infallible; we keep records of everyone's departures and departures more rigorously than banks record the circulation of money. The old man asked me to go out and call the doorman.The doorman called the old man again to make sure he was okay leaving his post; then he locked the door and went in with me.When we went in, Jarvis was there, supervised by Graves and one of his lab personnel.He stood there, wrapped in a hospital gown, apparently regaining consciousness, just looking a little sluggish. After seeing Jarvis, I began to have a premonition of what was about to happen.The old man didn't let everyone continue to think about it.He faced all the people attending the meeting and kept a certain distance.He drew his pistol. "An invading parasite has escaped and is among us." He said, "For some of you. Safety—the safety of the human race—is all about our cooperation and complete obedience.” He then briefly explained what the parasite was and explained the current situation . "In other words," he concluded, "this parasite is almost certainly in this room. One of us, who appears to be human, is actually a walking corpse, following our mortal and most dangerous act against the will of the enemy." There was a buzz of discussion.People were surreptitiously watching each other, some trying to distance themselves from others.Just now we were a harmonious group, but now we have become a group of birds, jealous of each other. I felt this myself, and found myself slowly backing away from the person next to me.That man was Ronald, the waiter in the lounge, I've known him for years. Graves cleared his throat. "Boss," he began, "I want you to understand that I have taken all reasonable—" "Shut up. I don't want any excuses. Bring Jarvis up front. Take his clothes off." Graves kept his mouth shut, and he and his assistant carried out the order.Jarvis didn't seem to care at all; he seemed completely unaware of what was going on around him.He had a nasty purple scar on the left side of his cheekbone up to his temple, but that wasn't the cause of his insensitivity, and it wasn't that hard when I hit him.Graves must have drugged him. "Turn him around," ordered the old man.Jarvis let the others turn him around.Red rashes on the shoulders and neck are characteristic of slugs. "You all saw where the thing was attached to him," said the old man. There was a murmur of discussion in the conference room, and awkward laughter as Jarvis's clothes were stripped; now there was a deathly silence. The old man said, "Now, we're going to find that parasite! One step further, we're going to capture that thing alive. But you guys who can't wait, itching to shoot, watch out. You've all seen parasites clinging to human bodies I warn you that if the parasite is killed, I will shoot whoever killed it. If you have to shoot at the host to catch it, shoot it down. Come here!" Point at me and say. I walked towards him; he stopped me between him and the others. "Graves! Get Jarvis out of the way. Let him sit behind me. No, don't let him get dressed." Jarvis was ushered through the conference room, still dazed.Graves and his assistant came too.The old man turned his attention to me. "Take out your gun and drop it on the floor." The old man's gun was aimed at my navel; I carefully drew my pistol and threw it about six feet away from me. "Take off your clothes—all of them." I'm not a delicate violet, but it's a bit embarrassing to carry out such an order.The old man's gun allowed me to overcome this resistance. After I stripped, several young girls giggled, which didn't help me overcome my embarrassment in any way.Some of them said: "Not bad!" The voice was not too low.Another girl said, "It's solid, I'd say." I blushed like a bride. After looking me up and down, the old man asked me to stand beside him with a gun. "Cover me," he ordered. "Watch the door. You! Dotty or something—you're next." Dotty is a secretary.She didn't have a gun, of course, and she was obviously still in bed when the alarm went off, because she was wearing a nightgown that fell to the floor.She took a few steps forward, stopped, but did not take off her clothes. The old man said to her, waving his pistol, "Come on—take it off! Is it going to be all night?" "You really let me take off?" she asked in disbelief. "Take off!" She started - almost literally jumped. "Okay!" she said, "There's no need to lose your head for such a thing." She bit her lower lip, and slowly unbuttoned her waist, "For this kind of thing, I should be given a bonus." She didn't Said convincingly, and then took off the pajamas with a clatter. It took her a moment to strike a pose, and it wasn't long, but everyone noticed it.This approach does spoil the impression a bit.Although I don't have any emotional appreciation, I admit that she really has the capital to show off. "Come and stand against the wall," said the old man roughly. "Renfrew!" The old man rolled the rolls one by one, calling a man, then a woman, alternately.This is a good idea, because doing so is the least resistance.I don't know if he did it on purpose.Oh shit, of course I know, everything the old man does is planned.After my ordeal, the men in the back were much more relaxed and undressed in a serious manner.Of course, some people still feel embarrassed when they come.As for the women, some giggled, some blushed, but none expressed undue disgust.On another occasion, I would have found it amusing.We all know more about other people than ever before.For example, there's a girl we keep calling her "big boobs"—forget it, let's not talk about that. After about twenty minutes, the naked, goose bumped area was so large that I had never seen it before.The guns were piled up on the floor in what looked like an arsenal. When it was Mary's turn, she took off her peasant clothes without any flirtatiousness, and she set a good example for everyone-the old man should have called her first, and not that little slut Dottie.After stripping, Mary made no fuss at all, naked but dignified.What I saw did not cool my feelings for her. Mary added a lot to that pile of ammunition.I could tell she just liked guns.As for me, I never use the second one. In the end, we were all naked and obviously free from parasites, except the old man himself and his secretary, Miss Hynes.I think he's a little in awe of Miss Hynes because she's older than he is and likes to boss him around. I began to understand who the possessor was—if the old man's analysis just now was right.But he could go wrong, and we don't know anything about the parasite, which might be attached to a roof girder, waiting to land on someone's neck. The old man looked distressed, poking at the pile of clothes with his cane.He knew there was nothing in it—maybe he really wanted to find out.Finally, he looked up at his secretary. "Miss Hynes—please, you're next." I thought to myself, God, this is going to have to use force. She didn't move.She stood there, glaring at him like a statue of a wounded virgin.I saw he was about to make a move, so I leaned up to him and said--whispered out of the corner of my mouth, "Boss--and yourself? Take it off." He turned his head sharply, looking quite surprised. "I mean it," I said. "It's either you or her. One of you. Take your clothes off." Unavoidable, had to obey.The old man understood this perfectly."Take off her clothes. I'm next," he said, serious as he reached for the belt buckle. I told Mary to send some girls to undress Miss Hynes.When I turned around, the old man's trousers were at half-mast—and Miss Hynes's choice was to rush out. The old man stood between me and her, and I couldn't shoot - the other agents were all disarmed!Again I don't think this was an accident.If parasites were found, the old man couldn't believe they wouldn't shoot.He wanted the slug, alive. By the time I figured it out, she was out the door, running down the corridor.I could have shot her in the arm in the aisle, but two things made me hesitate - first, my emotions couldn't turn the corner so quickly.I mean, in my mind, she's still the aging Ms. Hines, the boss's spinster secretary, the one who yells at me for the poor grammar in my reports.Second, if she was carrying a slug, I didn't want to risk killing the slug by shooting her.Anyway, I'm not the best shooter in the world. She slipped into a room; I followed, but hesitated again—out of habit: it was the women's room. Hesitation is only a momentary thing.I slammed open the toilet door, gun in hand, and looked around. Something hit me behind the right ear.What seemed to be a long, soothing moment before I fell to the floor. I cannot clearly describe what happened next.First, I passed out, at least for a while. I remember the fight and the shouting: "Be careful!" "Damn it—she bit me!" "Watch your hands! Watch your hands!" Then someone said more calmly: "Bound her hand and foot, and hurry—be careful." Another said, "What about him?" Another replied: "Wait. He wasn't seriously hurt." I hadn't really regained consciousness when they left, but I began to feel a surge of life within me.I sat up, impatient to do something.I stood up and stumbled to the door.I hesitated at the door, looking around warily: I saw no one.I went out the door, came to the corridor, and walked in the opposite direction of the conference room. At the outer door, I realized with a sudden surprise that I was still naked.Immediately I slowed down, then hurried across the hall to the men's wing of the dormitory.I grabbed whatever clothes I could find and put them on.I found a pair of shoes that were too small, but couldn't care less. I ran back to the exit, fumbling with frantic fingers, and found the switch; the door opened. I thought I had escaped without anyone noticing.But someone yelled, "Sam!" - just as I was about to go out.I rushed out without hesitation.Without hesitation, I chose one of the six doors facing me. I opened this door, and there were three more inside.The place we called the "office" was crowded, with a network of winding passages, like spaghetti, allowing any number of people to come and go without drawing attention.I finally entered a fruit and book store in the subway station, nodded to the owner - who didn't look surprised at all - and pushed open the back door, blending into the crowd.It's a route I've never taken before. I caught the Jet Express going up and got off at the first stop.I turned to the downstream side and waited near the change window, and finally a man came with a lot of money. I got on the same express with him, and when he got off, I got off too. .In a dark corner, I slapped him on the back of the neck.Now I have money and am ready to act.I don't know why I have to be rich, but I know that the action I'm about to take requires money.