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"You must have," said Biljah. "How else could the human have known?"
Arun tensed, praying that the Hardits wouldn't answer their own question. The humans knew about the fire because they had organized it, but the idea that humans could do such a thing was still inconceivable to the arrogant monkeys. Sushantat appeared to have conceded.
Arun continued. "I connected the news of the fire with rumors I've heard about Alabama. There are secret caches of guns and explosives. Could this be the start of a slave revolt?"
"Preposterous," said Sushantat. "He lies to save his life."
"But can we be sure what he says is not true?" asked Hen.
"If you give credence to this one's words," said Sushantat, "then we should send the Jotuns and their primitive soldiers in their s.h.i.+ny armor to investigate. That is their role, isn't it? To die in battle?"
Biljah considered. "I do not wish to smell their contempt if we cry panic over an incident that turns out to be innocent."
"Well, if you are so worried about them, organize the agricultural humans based at the depot to report on the situation," said Sushantat.
"I cannot," replied Biljah. "There is a crop fire fifteen miles northwest of the depot. I have already sent the local humans to extinguish it."
"What!" Sushantat looked agitated. "Why did you not inform me? I begin to believe this human's words. One or both events could be diversions. Send in the soldiers."
"No," said Biljah. "Not yet. Not until I'm sure."
"What alternative do you have?" insisted Sushantat. "Do you expect me to fight? I refuse!"
Arun looked from one Hardit to the other, trying to understand the balance of the argument. All along he'd gambled that the Hardits would be unable to ignore a major fire in the food depot, but would be so scared of accidentally revealing their gun-smuggling operation that they would be desperate to avoid bringing in outsiders, such as the Marines.
Arun hadn't considered that some Hardits were unaware of the gun smuggling, but that was the only way to explain Shushantat's att.i.tude. She might have just tried to murder him, but she appeared to be the most honest person in the room.
Then he realized that he was best out of the argument, and cast his eyes to the ground.
"There is a way," said Tawfiq. "Team Beta suffers from a chronic oversupply of workers. If the situation were dangerous, then a few casualties from Beta would be to everyone's advantage, even any surviving humans."
Thank you. Tawfiq had just spoken the words Arun had been praying for.
"Too risky," said Sushantat. "We need military a.s.sistance without delay."
"Need I remind you who is in charge here?" Biljah's artificially voiced words were expressionless, but Arun was sure she was issuing some stern scents to her subordinate.
The leader of the Hardits suddenly remembered Arun was there and switched off her human translation. The argument raged on for a short while. Arun couldn't follow a word, but at the end of it, he was still alive and following Tawfiq back to Team Beta's room.
Arun had barely made it out with his life, but he'd done the necessary.
Operation Clubhouse was back on.
* Chapter 43 *
"Mistress, this slave begs to report our status."
Arun shook his head. Adrienne was enjoying this a little too much. Any human listening in would hear the smirk behind her words.
"Report," came Tawfiq's artificial voice through Adrienne's radio, which was turned up loud enough to fill the truck cab.
"Thank you mistress. We have caught and interrogated an Agri-Aux."
"And?"
"And they are concealing something."
"Concealing what? Explosives? Weapons?"
"We have not discovered weapons. I meant that the Agri-Aux knows something but would not reveal what she knew."
"You're playing a dangerous game," whispered Arun. He was sitting alongside Adrienne in the truck cab. Madge glowered at her from the driver's seat.
"Do not trust the crop slaves," said Tawfiq. "Stay on your guard."
"Oh, mistress. I never knew you cared."
Madge reached over and switched off the radio.
Arun could practically see the sparks fly between the two women.
"Go check the others are okay," Madge ordered him between clenched teeth.
Arun took the hint. He opened up the hatch in the cab and climbed out, leaving Adrienne and Madge to work out between them who was in charge. Arun would back his squad mate without hesitation, but he understood that Madge wanted to prove she was the commander without Arun there to outnumber Adrienne.
He heaved himself up, closed the hatch and clambered over the spine of the lurching dung truck.
The truck's powerplant was completely silent, but the heavy tread tires made enough racket to nearly drown out the angry squawks of the birds they disturbed as they drove along the same track they always used to get to Alabama.
Arun was sore all over from the Hardit's pain shocks, but his sense of balance was undamaged. He stood up and walked toward the rear, arms thrown out for balance. On the road behind them he could see Springer driving the other truck. They waved to each other.
When Tawfiq had sent Team Beta out to investigate the strange goings-on at Alabama, giving them strict instructions to never speak of what they found to anyone but her, it was Adrienne who had requested transport. The result was the tucks that ferried the broken-down human excrement from Detroit to the farmland depot: the Alabama Dung Express.
The p.o.o.p trucks consisted of a wheeled frame to which four pods were attached by mag clamps, two pairs hanging from either side of a central spine. Instead of raw ingredients for fertilizer, today one of the pods had a different cargo.
Arun open up the hatch on top of the pod and shouted inside. "Everything all right in there?"
He was greeted with a cheer.
"I guess that's a yes then. You want I should close the hatch?"
"No, it's a lovely day. Keep it open."
"You got it."
Arun and many of the Aux inside the pod were wearing skirts and bonnets the full high-tech protective kit. Esther's people had donated eight crude suits earlier in the week, but today all of her Agri-Aux had decided to forego their full protective gear as part of their atonement.
Arun hoped she wasn't going to be frakked off when she learned they'd taken the dung express rather than walk "Hey, McEwan!" came a call from the hatch.
"What?"
"We can't get radio reception down here. Catch!"
Someone threw a speaker up through the hatch. Arun clamped his radio to the hatch, connected the speaker then settled down, sitting astride the truck's spine, looking out over the fields. Now that he was properly s.h.i.+elded, he could appreciate the beauty of the golden crops as they rippled in a light breeze under delicate flakes of pure white clouds. Arun could happily spend the entire day looking at clouds; they were so beautiful and he didn't often get to see them.
In the distance he could see the last few wisps of smoke dissipating in the sky from one of the fake fires the Agri-Aux had started, using the smoke bombs provided by Pedro. Hopefully they had given off enough heat to look like a genuine fire to any orbiting satellite.
Arun turned his back on the smoke. That was someone else's problem now. Having done his bit, he was looking forward to taking the rest of the day off. He'd never had a vacation before.
He settled down to enjoy the broadcast from Radio Hortez.
* Chapter 44 *
So there you have it, Scendence fans, The Stormers from 4th battalion, 101st a.s.sault Regiment have knocked out Divine Inspiration from 5th battalion, 420th Tac. While we wait for the next game, stick with Radio Hortez as we return once again to Team Ultimate Victory's Deception-Planning match from earlier today, against the Fieldgrays from 1st battalion, 410th Tac.
Each match uses a randomly selected game or challenge, and for this contest the Scendence AI has selected an old favorite, Skat. It's an ancient Earth card game, folks. Skat's a popular game because it rewards bluff, risk taking, and a grasp of probability statistics. Up till this point in the game, our bug-ugly contestant from Team Ultimate Victory has lost every hand. Fieldgrays opponent, Kadian Stadeker, has kept a straight face but now I can see his expression soften, a faint smile on his lips. He's coasting to an easy victory against the surprise Troggie subst.i.tution for disgraced idiot, Arun McEwan. Or so he thinks. Let's begin our replay by hearing what our scribe friend has to say after losing yet another hand.
"You do realize, Stadeker, that I have bluffed all along. I have allowed you to win up to this point. I have just been dealt an excellent hand and I shall beat you with it. It is not that I especially wish you to lose, but I wish to win more."
"What do you mean? You want to win more than I do?"
"No. I wish to win more than I don't want you to lose."
"Eh? Your language skills are even worse than your card playing. You're talking utter drent."
"I regret to tell you, Stadeker, that you are incorrect. It is your ability to listen and comprehend that is utter drent."
Kadian shrugs that barb away, but you can see on his face that he's rattled.
"Eight of hearts."
"You what?"
"Ten of bells. Unter of acorns."
"What are you playing at, insect?"
"Unter of bells. Ten of leaves."
"Hey stop that!"
"King of leaves."
"That's frakking cheating."
"No, this is using my natural frakking advantages. I can smell your hormones the way you can see words in a book. Shall we ask the referee to adjudicate?"
Have you ever had the sense that you've s.n.a.t.c.hed defeat from the jaws of victory? No? If you could only see Stadeker's face you would understand exactly what it must feel like. Only moments before he was certain of easy victory. Now he's so confused that he isn't certain of anything. If you told Stadeker that his name was Merry Madge, he'd probably believe you.
Mind you, your host on Radio Hortez can hardly believe what he's seeing either. I've watched this scene five, maybe six, times now and it still makes my eyes pop. The compet.i.tors are sitting at a small circular table covered in a black velvet cloth. Well, I say sitting, but our insect who goes by the name of Pedro is resting its seven-foot-long bulk on a kind of bench that leaves its back two pairs of legs free to wiggle along with its feelers. Its front pair of limbs holds a hand of cards. Its drab thorax the middle segment of its body is coated in fine rust-colored hairs, neatly brushed for the big occasion. Its abdomen the lower and largest part of the Trog is mottled in shades of brown and gray and coated in semi-transparent carapace armor that gleams like highly polished lacquer. He looks like the kind of ultimate monster. If you met our Pedro in your dreams you'd wet yourself in fright, but our insect hero is calmly lying there, holding a hand of playing cards. It's simply bizarre, my friends. Unbelievable.
Tell you what, though. Our big ant is built for these bluffing card games. It's staring at Stadeker through twin pairs of eyes like glossy black gla.s.s bowls, making absolutely no facial expressions at all. And it's speaking through a thought-to-speech device. No giveaway tells there, folks.
I'll hand you back to Pedro...
"I insist we consult the referee, because I play not only for victory but to uphold the good name of my nest."
"Your nest doesn't have a name, insect. Just a smell. A bad one too, I expect."
"On the contrary, we do have a human name. We are Nest Clubhouse."
Yeah! Let's hear it for Nest Clubhouse. Just remember who's made all this possible today. I can't name names without risking getting our benefactor into trouble. Let's just say this Scendence match had us hanging on a Cliff-edge, eh?
Back to the match. The ref confirms that trash talking to your opponent is all part of the game. As for Stadeker get this! now he's s.h.i.+elding his face, hiding it behind his hands.
"Unter of leaves. Nine of bells."
"You can cut that out. I'm not talking to you."
"Well, that's a relief. I don't want you to. I don't need to see your face either. I can smell your reaction as I name each possible card you might hold. Seven of bells. Seven of acorns."
"d.a.m.n you, skangat insect."
"You smell upset. If I were you, I'd play my first card ASAP. The longer you delay, the more of your hand I will uncover."
Stadeker makes his play. It's the ten of bells, the trump suit.
"A safe play. Very sensible under the circ.u.mstances, Stadeker. After all, I will soon know your entire hand and you have no idea what I've been dealt. That gives me a crus.h.i.+ng advantage, don't you think? Only a miracle of good fortune can save you from defeat.
Our bug-ugly friend, Pedro, was right. He won that hand. And the next. And every hand after that until he played the winning card and claimed a stunning victory for Team Ultimate Victory, standing in for Arun McEwan who was too busy with his vacation to make it to the match today.
They say a great Scendence player is crus.h.i.+ng in victory and stoic in defeat. Was Kadian Stadeker calm? Was he heck! Let's fast forward to my favorite part of the match. Pedro has just won, and Stadeker is on his feet, thumping the table and hurling abuse at the big insect. Looks to me like there's going to be a fight.