Part 50 (1/2)

None of this would be possible if not for the Trogs, whose tunneling and construction ability was miraculous. They built rectangular rooms with level floors for human usage, constructed drainage and ventilation channels and hardened conduits for power and data feeds. Their arterial corridors were broad: wide enough to take ten humans abreast, plus at least one line of the monorail system which the Trogs used to transport mounds of heavy equipment, spoil, and Trog workers.

The tunnel system already stretched for several klicks around the Hardit base Arun had fought over in the Battle of the Swoons. Given a generation or two, the entire moon would be honeycombed with their tunneling.

Best of all was the pleasure of sharing honest toil with the brothers and sisters of his unit. He wasn't sure why, but he was accepted once more as part of the unit. Perhaps it was trying to save Springer's life? He also suspected that they weren't being constantly fed combat drugs any more, though he had no way to be certain of that. Sergeant Gupta had taken Arun to one side and explained that sometimes when a group of untested Marines first comes under fire, invisible bonds are forged between the survivors that are stronger than animosities built up over the preceding years.

Springer would be back soon. She'd be able to explain what had changed.

The Trogs were everywhere but it was impossible to guess their number when all scribes and all workers looked identical. The one Trog Arun considered to be an individual was nowhere to be seen... until the day before the reinforcements from Bolt squad were due to arrive. Arun was given an order to report to a deep level where he had never been. He guessed the summons had not come from a human.

”Didn't think you were going to see me again,” Arun told his old friend who had been waiting for him. Pedro seemed to be growing into his new body. The dead 'skin' had flaked away to leave a rough carapace of mottled gray with ridges running around his body like hoops around an ancient wooden barrel. His legs had atrophied. Arun wondered whether they would eventually drop off, a body part not required in great parents.

”This is the last time I plan for us to have a conversation,” Pedro replied.

”So this is for old times' sake, eh?”

”Arun McEwan, do you recall why our first planned encounter was on orbital platform?”

”So we couldn't be overheard.”

”Correct. Orbital platforms have heavy defense against infiltration by nano spies. And now too, finally, is this area of our new moonbase. We may speak freely.”

”Let me guess. You're going to tell me that the Night Hummers have spoken of Xin too. That's she's part of their prophecy.”

Pedro whirled his antennae in consternation. In his old body, Arun reckoned, he'd be scampering around too.

”But you are accurate,” said Pedro when he'd recovered. ”How can this be so?”

”I have my sources.”

”This is excellent news, if surprising. Our hopes for freedom and expansion rest on both your pairs of narrow human shoulders. If you knew this already, perhaps your shoulders are a little broader than I thought.”

”Nice human metaphor, pal.”

”I thank you.”

”What I don't know,” said Arun, ”is how the purple girl fits in. Little Scar talked of a purple girl.”

”I know nothing of this. I do not think Lee Xin will change her color. My guess is that this purple human is an adaptation of your species bred for camouflage on worlds rich with vegetation. Foliage on most planets is purple. I enjoy speculating with you, but this is only a guess.”

Arun thought that over. Little scar had talked of someone arriving at Tranquility soon. No point guessing, though. He'd just have to keep an eye open. ”You've been a great help, Pedro,” he said, knowing the old Pedro would glow with pleasure at the praise. ”Really. But now you're cutting me loose. I understand that, but since I'm on my own, do you have any last advice for me?”

”Only what Sergeant Gupta tells me he has been trying to tell you all along: to keep your head down and wait for your chance.”

”Is that it?”

”No.”

When Pedro didn't elaborate, Arun grinned and placed a hand on Pedro's rough carapace. ”I know you too well for you to confuse me, my friend. Pedro, please tell me what else you have to tell me.”

”You are mistaken. Anything I have not told you is self-evident.”

Arun laughed. ”Have you forgotten that you regard the male human brain to be blinkered and s.e.x-obsessed? What is self-evident that we have not yet discussed?”

”That I will aid you if I can, but I have no influence outsystem. That if you need refuge in the Tranquility system I will try to provide it here on Antilles.”

”Is that truly it? Nothing more to tell me?”

”There is plenty more. However, there are things it is best you do not know. Otherwise if you were interrogated...”

”Yeah. I get it.” He gently caressed Pedro's feathery antennae. Under a covering of downy hairs, they were surprisingly stiff; cracked too, like perished black plastic. He'd never ditch his Cadet p.r.o.ng rep if any human saw him, but Pedro was his good friend, and communicating through touch was a human thing.

”I never did get around to touching you there,” Arun said. ”Does it feel nice?”

”Oh, yes. Y - e - sss.” The artificial voice distorted, growing fuzzier until becoming a low rumble. It had never done that before. Then Pedro's legs buckled, giving way under him, Arun s.n.a.t.c.hed his hands away, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g face up in disgust. ”You're kidding me. That's not... I mean I didn't just...?

When Pedro recovered, he curled his antennae and answered: ”Your s.e.x obsession continues to amuse. When I was altered to morph into a new great parent, I pa.s.sed by the reproductive stages, never to reclaim them. I am incapable of what you would call s.e.xual arousal. Your touch was merely very relaxing.”

”Thank frakk for that. Well, I guess if that's all you have to say, then it's farewell, you big lunk. It was been good having you as a friend.”

”I have not ceased being a friend, Arun, but now I must be a secret one. The action of Ensign Thunderclaws drew a great deal of attention to you. It has been noted and questioned. I gave you the choice of your reinforcements so that you could demonstrate loyalty to your nest brothers and sisters, I do not wish to further the sense that you are special. That is why this is our last meeting. Farewell, human McEwan.”

With that, Pedro turned and swam through the wall.

Arun blinked, barely believing his eyes. In his morphing body, Pedro was struggling to walk, but he swam through the chewed rock as if it were his natural element.

How the frakk did he do that?

Arun inspected the wall, remembering back to that first training exercise when the Troggie guardians had emerged through the walls. Yet they had struggled to dig him out of the hole his grenades had scooped out for him. The packed earth or rock dust Pedro had disappeared into felt powdery and glistened with slime. He thrust his hands into the wall which parted until he'd nearly pushed in up to his elbows. Then the earth hardened.

Idiot! Arun yanked his arms back, but it was too late! The soil had hardened around him. He screamed for help He was lucky some pa.s.sing Trog workers were nearby. They came racing through the pa.s.sageway, milling around in confusion when they got to Arun. He waggled his upper arms, trying to communicate that he was stuck.

They looked at the wall. They looked at the human who had summoned them. They looked at each other.

Then one rubbed its antennae over Arun's s.h.i.+rt, over the spot where Pedro had implanted his scent communicator.

Now the big aliens understood, flinging themselves at the wall in their eagerness to free Arun.

Arun understood too. It wasn't his human screams that had summoned the Troggie workers, it was his distress interpreted by the device and translated into pheromones, just as Pedro's box translated the scents he communicated into human speech.

When his limbs came free, the cramps he felt in his arms were excruciating, but Arun ignored that and filled his mind with a sense of grat.i.tude.

By the way the workers scampered around, rubbing themselves against him, the Trogs were basking in his praise.

Arun grinned. Being queen of the ants could prove pretty useful. Though he started to have doubts as he dusted himself off and went to rejoin the rest of his section, who were readying to patrol the mining area where the insurrection had started, an exercise in being seen. Five Troggie workers followed in a neat column behind Arun.

He began to wonder what Madge would say if he didn't find the pheromone that told them to clear off.