Mag Force - Hung Out Part 27

"The first thing we do is capture the vid station," Darlene explained. "At the same time, we slip into the dictator's palace, take him and his entourage hostage. Hopefully, since we have the element of surprise, we can accomplish this without bloodshed. Once we have the vid station, we broadcast vid shots of the dremecks marching victoriously through shopping malls and down the main streets of town."

"I think you're on to something, Mohini," Jamil admitted. "The only problem is, how do we force Kirkov to relinquish control? We're going to have to act fast, while everyone's off balance. If this revolution drags on a long time, people are going to figure out the trutha"that it was all a sham."

"We could threaten to kill him if he doesn't surrender power," Tycho suggested.

Quong shook his head. "I have researched this man Kirkov. He is a bully and a tyrant and, some believe, a megalomaniac. He will not surrender under a mere threat of force. A threat which we are not prepared to carry out."

"Oh, yes, we are," Jamil said emphatically. "I'd be glad to make him see the light, so to speak." He patted his lasgun.

"Xris already ruled that out, remember? Killing Kirkov is not the answer," said Darlene. "He has a successor and loyal followers. We'd have to kill all of those people, as well."

Then we would lose the dremecks," Quong stated. "They would never permit a bloodbath."

"Speaking of actorsa"" said Raoul.

"We weren't," Jamil snapped, in no mood for the dreamy ramblings of the Loti.

"Speaking of actors," Raoul continued, plucking wads of cotton from between his toes, "I have seen pictures of this Kirkova"you can't miss them. He has plastered them all over the city. There was even one in the little boy's room at the s.p.a.ceport and I saw another as we entered the mine shaft. He is really quite handsome. His uniform fits him superbly. I should like very much to meet his tailor, if that could be arranged. However, that's not the point, which was..."

Raoul paused, thoughtful.

"Thanks, Raoul. Give me a call the next time you're in town," Jamil said. "Now, look, Doc, what ifa""

The Little One waved his hands frantically and stomped his feet. He pointed emphatically to Raoul, who had just recaptured the b.u.t.terflies in his head.

"I have it! We were speaking of actors. And I remember thinking. That dictator fellow. He looks rather like Rusty Love, not counting the hair and the teeth and their physique. Other than that, the two could be twins. Perhaps they are. A good twin and an 'evil twin.' So you see," Raoul said, regarding them limpidly from beneath gold-shimmered eyelids, "that's the solution."

"What is?" asked Darlene.

"We don't shoot the dictator fellow," said Raoul, patient with the slow learners. "We s.n.a.t.c.h him, bag him, and put Rusty Love the actor in his place. Rusty Love surrenders power to the dremecks. Then he steps into the gondola of the balloon and floats offa"I saw that in an old vid once and it was quite effective. We film the balloon ascension with the cams and show it to all and sundry on the evening news with follow-up coverage on the morning talk shows.

As for the dictator fellow"a"Raoul's hand fluttereda""once he provides me with the name of his tailor, you may do what you like with him."

The Little One clapped his hands and then gestured proudly at Raoul, as if he were presenting him to cheering crowds. The rest of the team gazed at Raoul in stunned, even awed silence.

"You know," said Quong at last. "Kirkov does look a lot the actor Rusty Love. Now that you mention it, the resemblance is quite remarkable. And the parts that don't work could be overlaid with makeup. Raoul, that is a brilliant plan."

"Thank you," Raoul replied modestly. "I thought it up all by myself."

"The Loti may be on to something," Jamil admitted. "Of course, we can't get Rusty Love, but there must be some tall, handsome, blond hunk in the city who woulda""

"If you want Rusty Love, you can have him," Raoul said. Having finished with his toes he was painting his nails the same shade of red.

"I suppose you know him," Jamil retorted bitingly. "And I'm sure he'd be glad to drop everything he's doing and travel to some remote part of the galaxy to do you this little favor."

"Oh, yes." Raoul was complacent.

"And what would it cost us?" Tycho demanded. "According to my calculations, we have only five thousand eagles left for extraneous expenses. If we go over that, we cut into our profit margin."

"So like his brother," Quong murmured.

"It won't cost us a thing," Raoul said, daintily dipping the brush into the bottle. "He will be only too happy to perform this small task for me. He is an Adonian, you know."

"And he'd go to all this trouble to free some dremecks from slavery?" Jamil asked skeptically.

Raoul smiled, smoothed polish on his index finger. "Let us say that he would go to all this trouble for his master. Rusty Love was once my slave."

CHAPTER 27.

The quietly pacifist peaceful always die to make room for men who shout....

Alice Walker, "The QPP"

"That's the plan," said Jamil. He looked intently at Marmand. "Can your people handle it?"

Marmand didn't respond immediately. Jamil didn't want him to. Jamil wanted the dremeck leader to consider every angle, to make certain he understood what he was committing to before committing to it.

"We wouldn't be expected to really use the weapons," Marmand said. "Just march around with them."

"And sometimes point them at people. Don't worry," Jamil added, seeing Marmand look unhappy, "we'll make certain that the beam rifles can't possibly harm anyone, unless maybe you clobbered someone over the head with one. They'll be like toy guns, like the ones the human children play with. They'll just look real."

Marmand shook his head sadly. "Humans teach their young to kill. You must know that to even pretend to do harm to another living being would be extremely repugnant to us."

"Well, then, we'll just pack up and go home," said Jamil, losing patience. "And you and your children can see how long you can hold your breath in the vacuum of s.p.a.ce, which won't be that long because the cold will be so intense it'll probably crystallize your blood unless your bodies explode due to the sudden change in pressure."

"You think we are being difficult," Marmand said, with a deprecating smile that caused me sagging folds of his cheeks to lift momentarily. "I have not said that we would not do what you require of us. I simply wish to point out how hard it will be for some of our people to do what you ask. I don't suppose that you, for example, could strangle a human baby with your bare hands."

"Of course not," Jamil said shortly.

"Or even pretend to do so?" Marmand persisted.

"Well..." Jamil hesitated.

"You see? Even pretending to commit such a heinous act would make you uncomfortable, wouldn't it?"

"Change requires sacrifice," said Jamil. "The price of freedom and your lives comes high. Even pretending to use these weapons will put your people in danger. If you point a gun at someone, you've got to expect them to figure you mean it. I'm hoping that the sight of a few hundred armed dremecks will cause most humans to join up with us, but I can't promise that none of your people will get hurt or that they won't inadvertently hurt someone."

"Perhaps we could negotiate with His Eminence," Marmand suggested pleadingly. "a.s.sure him that we are not a threat to him, that we will remain his slaves, if that is what he wants."

"Is that what you want, Marmand?" Jamil asked grimly. "Think it over. How do you think it makes your children feel when they see their parents chained together and led off by human guards with stun-sticks? You're saying to your children, 'We're not equal to the humans. We're a menial, subservient race. We don't deserve to hold our own beliefs or to pa.s.s on those beliefs to you. We are slaves, we were meant to be slaves, we will always be slaves. You children and your children's children will be slaves because we adults don't care enough about you to struggle for your freedom.'

"Is that how you think, Marmand?" Jamil concluded. "Is that how your people think? Have they completely lost all self-respect? Because if that's true, then there's nothing I can do to help you. There's nothing an army of hired guns could do to help you, because you're not willing to help yourselves. Even if an army did free you, you would still be slaves."

Marmand was thoughtful, sadly thoughtful. The face-folds seemed to sag down to his knees. At length he sighed.

"I have watched our little children playing at being slaves. They chain themselves together with lengths of rope and are led off to 'work' by children playing the overseers." Marmand looked directly at Jamil, the liquid eyes round and intent and filled with pain. "The most coveted position in this 'game' was that of the human overseer. The winner got to be the human. The losers were the dremecks."

Jamil had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something sympathetic. This story was a powerful reinforcement of his own arguments. He kept his mouth shut.

Marmand sighed again. "You could not have known this, of course, but one thing I have noticed about you humansa" even the worst of youa"is that you have a most frightening way of digging up those thoughts we most want to keep buried. You do this to each other and torture each other quite effectively."

"Yeah, and sometimes we help each other, too," Jamil said gruffly. "And that's all we want to do. We want to help."

"And earn your fee, which is substantial," Marmand added with a slight smile. "You're paying our fee?" Jamil asked, amazed.

"A portion of it," Marmand replied. "Along with another party."

"Do you know the other party?" Jamil was intensely curious.

"An anonymous benefactor," Marmand answered with a twitch of his face-folds. "We honestly do not know who it might be, though we have our suspicions."

Jamil grunted. "Yeah, us, too. Do you"a"he paused, glanced around to make certain that none of the rest, Tycho especially, could hear hima""do you have the money? Because if you don't, we could make an arrangementa""

"No, no. Money is not a problem." Marmand waved his hand to brush away the unspoken offer. "We have resources. The humans would say that we have been stealing from them, but the diamonds were here before the humans were and so we do not consider the appropriations we have made to be theft. Also, we have been told that if we succeed in overthrowing this current government and replacing it with one of our own, we will have the ability to seize the money that is kept in the steel-lined burrows and use that to aid our people."

"Nationalize the banks." Jamil nodded and made a mental note to call his broker and make certain he didn't have any funds in Del Solian banks. "That's true, although you're going to make a lot of humans out there very upset. Still, I don't suppose you really care about that, do you?"

"Not much, no," Marmand said, and the face-folds rippled in a wide smile, which very quickly vanished. "Our people will do what you want. The young are especially eager to be free of the humans and"a"he sighed deeply, so deeply that the sigh seemed to come from far beneath the ground, where the dremecks lived and workeda""we will pretend to fight."

He shook his head sadly, the face-folds flapping back and forth. "We may be saving ourselves, saving our race from extinction, but if this rebellion changes us, changes who and what we are, then I think those who come after us may look back and curse us."

"Your culture has survived for centuries," Jamil said, vastly relieved. "I don't think a few weeks of military training and a couple of mock battles will affect it."

"Military training." Marmand repeated the words with dread. He shuddered. "What happens if our young come to enjoy it?"

Jamil grinned. "With me in charge? I don't think that's likely!"

The training of the first and hopefully last dremeck army began the next day. Jamil studied various locations to hold his drills and finally chose a gigantic cavern in a played-out diamond mine located about two hundred meters below ground level. Kirkov's surveillance satellites would not detect them down there. Quong went over the cavern with his equipment to make certain that the humans had not left behind any listening devices.

Darlene began trying to find ways to invade the Del Solian government and military computers. She didn't have to delve deep into the systems, just deep enough to plant viruses that would, in two weeks' time, bring the military and government computer networks to their knees. This done, she was planning to tour the vid station and return with a detailed map and access into their computer files.

Raoul contacted Rusty Love's publicist, who put him in touch with Rusty Love's agent, who thought it all quite ludicrous and refused to admit to Raoul even that Rusty Love was alive, much less where to find him. After much persuading and a bribe of a case of Adonian champagne, the agent agreed to pa.s.s the message on to Rusty Love that an old friend was attempting to get in touch with him, and that was the best the agent would do.

The date for the video-revolution was set for twelve days hence, on a night known to the dremecks as Rock Slide Night, commemorating some dire event in dremeck history.

Jamil's immediate problem was how to pull two hundred able-bodied dremecks from the workforce without arousing their overseers' suspicions. The team members, with the exception of Raoul, were pa.s.sing themselves off as sociologists and cultural anthropologists, engaged in studying the dremecks. Raoul had offered to appear in the guise of cultural anthropologist, but once it was explained to him that this had nothing to do with skin care products, he had decided it would be better if he were to say he was here to visit Del Sol's galaxy-famous diamond merchants. His story could always be altered to fit the Rusty Love scenario, and thus Raoul and the Little One had taken a room in the city's most expensive hotel. Their visits to the burrows were under the guise of wanting to see the diamonds in their natural setting.

These were the stories the team members had given the wire-heads during their routine interrogation at the s.p.a.ceport. In addition, Dr. Quong had made an erudite and didactic speech to the overseers the first day of the team's arrival at the burrow, managing to bore the overseers thoroughly and making them late for work. After that, the overseers had been careful to keep out of Quong's way, had even taken to fingering their stun-sticks when they saw him approach.

But that did not solve the problem of how to effect the disappearance of two hundred members of the dremeck workforce. Quong and his team of "ologists" had been permitted to stay in the burrows only on the condition that their studies didn't take the dremecks away from their jobs.

It was Marmand who provided the solution.

"Humans can never tell us aparta"" he began.

"I am extremely sorry about that, Marmand," Dr. Quong interrupted, embarra.s.sed. "I had a.s.sumed that I was talking to you, when I discovered that the one to whom I was speaking was your mate. I did not mean to offend her. It's just that you dress alike anda""

"Please do not feel the need to apologize, Doctor," said Marmand gently. "We would probably find it hard to tell you humans apart, as well, except for the fact that your females have ugly protrusions on their bodies, which allows us to distinguish them from the males, and that all of you have a wide variety of skin colorations, to say nothing of the unsightly growth you encourage on your heads."

"I can hardly wait to tell Raoul," Jamil whispered, grinning.

Quong nodded. "Especially the part about 'unsightly growth.' Business before pleasure, however."

"The humans do not consider the elder among our species suitable for hard labor," Marmand was saying. "The elder dremecks, therefore, remain in the burrow and take care of the children or tend to the farming of our food supplies or perform other tasks that do not require exertion or endurance. The elders have volunteered to take the places of the young dremecks at work, so that their presence will not be missed."

"But won't that be hard on them?" Jamil asked. "I appreciate their offer, but two hundred elderly dremecks collapsing on the job would look about as suspicious as two hundred young dremecks reporting in sick."

Marmand's face-folds rippled in sly amus.e.m.e.nt. "You humans equate our elders with your own. The truth is that our elders are stronger than our young. Our bodies do not degenerate with age. The reverse happens, in fact. The bodies of the young are not fully developed; neither are their brains. They are weak compared to their elders, who are strong in order to care for them."

"Doc?" Jamil was dubious.

"I have noted that Marmand appears to be in excellent physical condition," Quong said, "but I had a.s.sumed that this was the reason he had been chosen as the One. Now it appears that Marmand is the rule, not the exception."

"Maybe we should put together an army of grandparents," Jamil suggested.

Marmand shook his head, the face-folds swaying from side to side.

"The elder are very much opposed to the idea of an army. They will do their part by taking the places of the young, but that is all they will do, and they are not happy about doing that much."

"They don't have to be happy, Marmand," said Jamil. "All they have to do isa""

"Excuse me," Quong interrupted. "Tell me this, Marmand: If you dremecks grow stronger as you age, are you immortal?" He took out a recording device and activated it. "Speak distinctly, will you, please?"

"Not now, Doc," Jamil snapped. "As I was sayinga""

"No. in time we all will diea"as you humans term it," said Marmand, seemingly relieved to be speaking of something other than the army. "Once a year, we enter the Birth/Death Cycle. That is when all dremeck children are born and, during that time, a proportionate number of elder dremecks die."

"What is the manner of death?" Quong asked. "I must a.s.sume that they don't commit suicide."

"Of course not." Marmand was shocked. "We had never even heard of such a thing until you humans arrived. The bodies of certain elder dremecks simply cease to function. The breakdown happens very rapidly, beginning with a weakness in the limbs and always resulting in death. Those affected sink gradually into a deep sleep, from which they do not awaken. We are aware of the onset of death about two days in advance and thus we have time to bid farewell to our loved ones before proceeding on to the next stage of existence."

"And the number of those who die corresponds exactly to the number of births?" Quong asked. "Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating. No other humans have done any studies on this? No, of course not. Because they do not know! You have kept the truth about the elders hidden! I will be the first to study this phenomenon. Excuse me. I must go and retrieve my instruments. You will not mind if I run a few tests, will you, Marmand?"

"Not now, Doc!" Jamil repeated loudly, his voice grating. "First the revolution, then the Journal of the Galactic Medical a.s.sociation. I need you to start turning those beam rifles we brought into toys!"

"But this could be of great importance in scientific research into the aging process!" Quong argued. "This is the first race we have ever encountered that grows stronger as it ages, not weaker. My studies here may make medical history. If Xris were here, hea""

"Xris isn't here!" Jamil shouted savagely. "I'm here. And what am I doing? I'm going along with a plan thought up by an Adonian Loti whose remaining brain cells couldn't outfit an amoeba! I'm training an army of pacifists! IV hiring a movie star to overthrow a dictator! I wish Xris was here, Doc! I wish to G.o.d he was here!" Quong took a moment to let the outpouring of anger and frustration flow past him, then said quietly, "I am sorry, my friend. I spoke without thinking. You are right, of course. I will begin to dismantle the beam rifles."

"You do that, Doc," Jamil said, suddenly ragged-edged and tired. "G.o.d forbid we should actually kill anything."