Bill 5 - on the Planet of Zombie Vampires by Harry Harrison Page B

Pretty might be said to be a luxury that scientific research can't afford.”
    “Gee, I'm impressed,” said Rambette unimpressedly. “Slide those latkes over here.”
    “Dey good, huh?” asked Bruiser. “Though me feel sorry for all da rattlesnakes.”
    “Don't bother,” said Tootsie. “They died in a good cause. Indigestion.”
    “Would you people kindly listen?” Caine snapped surlily. “I have deduced that we are dealing with the larval form of an extremely complex creature.” He waved the alien skin to make his point, and a webbed foot fell into the salad. Bruiser picked it out and threw it on the floor. Barfer sniffed it, growled unhappily, and went back to his okra.
    “We had firsthand observation of the egg hatchery,” he continued. “That's a good place to start examining the beast's life cycle. After an appropriate incubation period they apparently hatch and wait to attach themselves to any living forms that are handy.”
    “This is spoiling my appetite,” moaned Tootsie.
    “Not mine,” Bruiser said happily. “Who got da chopped onions?”
    “Whereupon they gather nutrients, pass into a dormant stage, and molt.”
    “Wait a minute there,” said Christianson, watching the captain throw bits of battered sea slug into the simmering oil. “I don't think I like that gathering nutrients part. Are you trying to tell me it was sucking my blood?”
    “Something like that,” said Caine. “But I wouldn't worry about that part. They're pretty small at that point in their life cycle, so they probably don't require much in the way of nutrition. Just a little blood. You can easily spare it. The only complication would be that you might feel a little hungrier than usual afterwards.”
    “I haven't noticed anything like that,” said Christianson, chomping half of a spiderburger in one bite.
    “Me either,” said Bruiser, dipping his tenth turkey leg into the hot sauce.
    “Bloodsucking aliens?” mused Rambette. “Could they possibly be galactic vampires?”
    “First we had mummies,” moaned Tootsie. “Next we had zombies and now we've got vampires. We've had every damned monster in the book.”
    “I think we're missing trolls,” suggested Bill helpfully. “And dragons.”
    “Don't forget werewolves,” said Rambette.
    “Maybe they're next,” quavered Tootsie.
    “That's hard to predict,” Caine said. “But one thing we can be reasonably sure of is that whatever form it takes next, it won't be little and cute anymore. It's outgrown that stage.”
    “That's cheerful news,” said Bill, poking his finger into his midriff to see if he could stow any more chow away.
    “So where are they?” asked Uhuru. “If they molted, where did they go off to? They better not be loose on the ship.”
    “That's a very real possibility,” said the android science officer. “And there may not be two anymore. There may be four.”
    “Four?” asked Larry or Curly or Moe, stealing a latke off another clone's plate. “How come four?”
    “They could have divided. Lots of creatures do that. Amoebas, for instance. But that's not the bad news.”
    “Wait up,” said Bill, “We got maybe four vampires loose on the ship, and that's not the bad news? What could be worse?”
    “It's quite possible they are not running around on the ship.”
    “That's a relief,” said Uhuru.
    “No, it's not,” said Caine slowly. “That's the bad news. They might be developing to their next stage inside the bodies of Bruiser and Mr. Christianson.”
    Everybody but the two aforementioned possible hosts stopped eating and stared in horror at the potential danger in their midst.
    “Dat's not funny,” said Bruiser, glowering around at the horrified spectators. “I never heard of nothin' like dat.”
    “It's really quite common in nature,” cozened Caine. “All of us totally competent scientists know of many examples. Wasps that lay their eggs on caterpillars are the ones I'm most familiar with. But, of course, there are