And lo and behold they never even got around to shining those same boots before they were loaded in vans and, preceded and followed by a police escort doing about a hundred and eighty, driven up to Orlando and dropped off in a howling wasteland that looked suspiciously like Beirut. They’d caught just enough on the tube to have some idea what was going on but there wasn’t much to see at the moment except a bunch of national guardsmen standing around drinking coffee under klieg lights.

That and the globe.

“If there’s a penetration of the globe, from our side that is, we’re tasked to do it,” Glasser said. “There’s no SOP for this; we’re into science fiction. Do you read science fiction?”

Crichton wasn’t sure how to answer; most military officers were death on SF. But Glasser didn’t seem to mind.

“I used to,” Lieutenant Glasser mused. “Used to read a lot. I’m dead worried about biological or chemical contamination from that side. What happened to that bug?”

“Well, sir, it’s two bugs now,” Crichton answered, gulping. “Sergeant Grant and I got them both up out of the hole. We wore our protective gear and decontaminated afterwards.”

“Decon foam might not work on bugs from another world,” Glasser pointed out. “As I said, no SOP.”

“Yes, sir, but we also used bleach,” Crichton said, stubbornly. “Sir, if it can stand up to bleach, I don’t think it can bond to anything in this world.”

“Where are the bugs?” the SEAL said, ignoring the comment.

“The sergeant and I trussed them up with duct tape and then dumped them in the back of a Humvee with all the windows rolled up and big signs on it not to open it. But they’re both dead, sir. They just stopped twitching after a while.”

“I guess something on this side is poisonous to them,” Glasser said. “Which is the first good news I’ve had today. And bad, for that matter, it doesn’t mean the other side isn’t poisonous. Any idea what?”