by Shuvom Ghose
Red-Stripe, we NEED you to back up. You are scaring them.
The large Hell-Spider took one step back toward the treeline. The others did as well. I remembered I could exhale, too.
Thank you.
"We cannot let you leave this clearing."
We do not want to!
"We also cannot guard you forever."
Shit. This was turning into a negotiation, and I had absolutely nothing to barter with. I snapped my fingers at Zazlu again, pointed at his head then pointed at Red-Stripe.
The Iranian was confused.
I pointed at his head again, harder, and then at the Hell-Spider's head, again. And then held a finger in front of my mouth again.
It's funny how you don't need to know sign language to recognize four-letter words being silently mouthed at you. But Zazlu walked up next to me and looked Red-Stripe right in his four eyes.
My friend will negotiate with you. We will reach an agreement, I thought.
"Very well."
Zazlu started nodding at the spider, then frowning and shaking his head.
Now it was my turn to suffer, watching the expressions cycle through Zazlu's face and being left to wonder just WHAT the fuck was being said.
It stretched one minute. Then another. The clearing was silent, no creature moving or speaking. I turned to the squad and motioned for them to relax, trying to smile at them while I secretly checked every one of their trigger fingers. They were getting jittery. The spiders were dead calm, in a ring around us.
I turned back to Zazlu and he was still gesturing, frowning and shaking his head at Red-Stripe. I finally just pulled on his sleeve and gave him a "What the fuck?" look. Zazlu started to open his mouth but then stopped and pointed at his combat mike in frustration.
I pointed at his head, then Red-Stripe, then my head.
Zazlu mouthed another unmentionable at me, then closed his eyes, concentrating. The sliding claws voice invaded my thoughts again. "The Wrestler wishes me to relay his thoughts to you, for some reason."
Good. Go ahead.
"You cannot speak to him directly? Are one of you still a child?"
No, just- it's complicated! Just go ahead!
"Very well." Red-Stripe paused. "He is picturing someone having intercourse with an animal- a dog."
We've screwed the pooch.
"Yes. And now, he is picturing a... sniper? Killing a target from a great distance."
A long shot.
"Yes. And now, he pictures three humans, one wearing a hat-"
Tell him to stop thinking in metaphors and just talk plainly!
"Meta...? I do not understand."
"Sir," Juan whispered. "They're getting closer!"
"No they're not, private. Relax."
He gripped his grenade launcher tighter. "They are!"
"What should we do?" Telson cried to me, starting to raise his barrel again.
"I need a sit-rep of what's going on!" SMaj Hughes said into my ear. "Now!"
"Now the Wrestler is picturing a man on a horse..."
I wondered what I had ever done to the Gods to find myself in this position.
Red-Stripe, what were you and the Wrestler talking about last? Hurry! And use your own words!
"He was asking why the thunder bees do not attack the Joshua trees."
And?
"It is because the trees are where the bees rest and feed from its nectar. If you see many Joshua trees, you will always find a thunder bee hive close by. If there are no trees nearby, the hive cannot survive."
Juan was backing up, wide eyes on the ring of Hell-Spiders. "Sir? Sir!"
That's all?
"The Wrestler asked if the thunder bees were causing problems for us. I replied that they were. As the weather gets drier, the bees wander West into our hunting grounds, threatening hunts that they did not threaten before. The Wrestler offered to help. For a price."
Fuck. I gave Zazlu a disbelieving look. "Really?" I asked, my voice hoarse after the long silence.
"I said it was a long shot," he spat back.
"SIT REP!" Hughes barked. "Why are you pussies pansy-footing around out there if you can see the enemy right in-"
And then it hit me. I pushed Juan's and Telson's weapons back down, giving them reassuring looks as I did. And I ran around to make sure everyone had their weapons safe before I started yelling.
"Squad! Fall back! Fall back to the LZ!" I yelled. The squad just looked at me strangely, since we hadn't even left the LZ.
I gave Red-Stripe a calming gesture, then yelled, "Jinx! Jinx! We are in heavy contact! They're all around us! How far out are you?"
"Two minutes. Inbound now."
"No!" I shot back. "Go back to base! And get every shoulder rocket you can load up onto the chopper! We need firepower!"
"Heavies?"
Shit. That's all I needed, Hughes or Oakley's men out here in heavies to see what we were up to.
"No! No more soldiers! We've got enough men! Just weapons! We'll keep the Spiders chasing their tails until you get back! Hurry!"
"Roger. Back in ten. Out."
I looked at Red-Stripe. Our metal-spitters, which way can we fire them without pointing towards any of your caves? The Spider pointed towards a rising hill. Could you get your friends out of that direction?
"For what purpose?"
We are going to fire our weapons so that it sounds like we are doing a great battle for my superiors who are spying on us, but we do not want to actually hurt any of you.
The spider looked at me for a second. "Your species is strange." Then the spiders in that direction started making a gap in the ring. I lined up our privates and had them aim at an innocent tree.
We fought that tree to a vicious stand-still for the next ten minutes, yelling, screaming and making other battle sounds that would have made any radio performer proud. When Jinx landed in the clearing again, I had Zazlu and Juan get on the helo and start arming the rocket launchers. Zazlu knew where to go. The privates stayed with me, kneeling in the shade of the treeline.
The next part was tricky to coordinate, but luckily the implants worked over a long distance.
"There Zaz! Under that tree!" I yelled, pointing at a thing that Zazlu, fifteen miles away in the desert, couldn't see.
"Got it! Fire in the hole!" he yelled over the roar of the chopper, and I heard the Whoosh! of a hand-held rocket launcher firing. Then the sounds of many, many bees popping. And the sound of a Joshua tree splintering and falling over. "Got two spiders! Confirmed kills!"
"Watch out on our right! Juan! Juan!"
"Roger," Juan said, also yelling over the helo. Whoosh! "Missed him!"
"Fire again! Hurry!" I yelled, then sipped my water.
"Hold on- there!" Whoosh! More bees popping. Another tree cracking. "Got him!"
We went on like this for fifteen minutes.
As the choppers swung back to pick us up, I had the privates rubbing grass and mud on their fatigues and scuffing up their boots and rifles. For verisimilitude. I knelt in the shade next to Red-Stripe and a pile of two new and five old spider skulls.
Except for when Three-Spot had killed me, I had never been this close to a Hell-Spider. Watching the slick black plates of his shell slide over one another as he breathed was eerie, but also beautiful in a way.
Thank you for these, I thought, nodding at the pile of skulls they had brought. I hope you had time to perform whatever rites were necessary to respect your fallen.
"We do not have burial ceremonies as your species seems to," he thought back into my head. "We celebrate the living mind. Not the dead flesh it leaves behind. These would have been used as bait for the next hunt if you were not taking them."
Well, thank you nonetheless. They will help us greatly, to convince our superiors we do not need to return here.
"Our scouts already report no thunder bees on the far eastern side of the Night Hunting Grounds, or on the edges of the desert beyond. That will help us greatly with future hun
ts."
I could hear the sound of choppers in the distance. Red-Stripe and I both scanned the horizon trying to spot them.
So we both got what we wanted. Maybe we should do this again sometime?
He thought for a moment.
"Sometimes, hunting parties are delayed and must travel around the Night Hunting Grounds instead of crossing it during the day. It is very annoying. Can you do the same for the lightning snakes as you have done for the thunder bees?"
Do the lightning snakes have a weakness like the Joshua trees?
"No. They live in many small, deep burrows during the cool times and must be dug out one by one. It is very painful and dangerous. We have tried."
Then no, we probably can't help with that. Anything else?
Another moment of thought. Jinx's chopper was a black dot in the sky now. The privates started lining up.
"We have another snake problem, to the west. Far to the west, in the Fertile Swamps. River snakes do not burrow, but live out in the open."
Are they as fast as lighting snakes?
"No. They are quite slow, in fact. But we would look kindly on your help dealing with it."
I stood up, motioned for two privates to pick up the skulls. River snakes, to the west in the swamps. Got it. I'll see what I can do.
Jinx was starting his descent in to the center of the clearing, kicking up grass and leaves everywhere. Luckily I heard Red-Stripe's next line clearly over the roar of the blades.
"Very well. I will tell our clan to welcome humans if they are encountered here again."
No! We are not all safe! I thought back quickly. I jumped in front of his massive head and pointed out the patches on my shoulders, the gold sideways "8". Only trust humans with this shape on their clothes. Infinity Squad. All other squads, clans, are dangerous! Do you understand?
The spider tilted its head at me. "Three-Spot told us of a peace treaty. And end to bloodshed. It was voted on."
We cannot promise that! I will do my best, but only trust those with this shape, okay?
"Breaking an approved treaty would have serious consequences. For all of you, Infinity Squad or not."
The chopper had landed, been loaded, and was waiting for me. I will do my best! Just give me some time!
"We shall see," Red-Stripe thought, gave the chopper behind me a last look, then disappeared into the jungle.
***
Chapter Six
I made sure to make eye contact with every private on the crowded chopper ride home. "You all did a great job today against that wave of spiders," I told them, making sure to speak clearly into the mike and give them a Lieutenant Look as I did.
"No one broke noise discipline and told the enemy what was going on, not even when we had to defend that ridge for ten minutes until Jinx arrived with the rockets. And watching Zaz and Juan kill all those Hell-Spiders with rockets from the air was pretty fun, right?"
Some of the privates gulped and nodded.
"RIGHT?" I asked.
"SIR YES SIR!" they yelled back.
"Damn right," I muttered.
Zazlu was sitting with his legs dangling off the side of the chopper, slamming the skulls against the skid to remove the decomposed parts or just shooting bits off with his side arm. For verisimilitude. His forearms and legs were covered in blue spider blood, and as he wrenched free each obviously old part of a skull, he just flung in down to the jungle below. Telson, sitting next to him with a queasy look on his face, was getting a little blue spatter on his fatigues with each fling.
Then I remembered. I dug into my pockets and presented him with an energy bar.
"Lunch, Telson?"
He started vomiting over the side.
Drunk Private's heaving had the squad cracking up and loose as we landed back on base, just like I had planned. Even Telson was smiling weakly as he washed his mouth out with water and spat it over the side. He didn't like keeping secrets, especially from his superiors. Once he knew that he wouldn't have to do it alone, that we had an official squad line and I was the point man for keeping our story straight, he was less nervous.
Which went right out the window when we saw General Oakley, SMaj Hughes and the BlackShirts waiting for us on the flightline.
Oakley walked up to inspect Zazlu's skulls as soon as Jinx turned off the engine. We had ended up with three-fourths of a new one, the bottom half of another, and large bits of three more.
"I can't hang these!" Oakley spat. "They're barely complete! Last time you brought whole skulls back, Lieutenant."
I jumped off the chopper and stood at full clone height, looking down at both Oakley and Hughes. "Last time, sir, we were allowed the use of Heavies, had a full day's rest, and were allowed to plan the mission without some yahoo listening in on our comms!"
Hughes was about to blow. "Now look you little snot-"
"No YOU LOOK!" I shouted back. "General, this Rear Echelon Mother Fucker broke radio discipline twice while my men were in the field sneaking up on a pack of twenty or more sleeping Hell-Spiders! Because of his blabbermouth we lost position and had to use rocket launchers instead of the surgical sniper strikes I was planning! If you want to bitch to someone about why your skulls are in pieces, bitch to HIM. Sir."
And I saluted Oakley, giving Hughes a nasty stare.
Hughes looked like the vein on his forehead was about to pop, but he stayed silent. There is one phrase that trumps every other, in any military argument, and that was "in the field." And one curse worse than any other, Rear Echelon Mother Fucker. Any REMF that was even suspected of making things harder for soldiers "in the field" didn't have a leg to stand on.
"I will take that under advisement, Lieutenant," Oakley said, his eyes narrowing at me. "For now, you are free to plan your tactics as you did before. But Sergeant Major Hughes will retain authority to discipline soldiers that are off-duty." Oakley turned and gave Hughes a raised eyebrow. "I will ask the Sergeant Major to refrain from strenuous training right before a scheduled mission."
With a face that looked like he was swallowing bile, Hughes nodded at the General. I tried not to giggle.
"We got your five kills, sir, even if the skulls are in pieces. I assume my squad is off-duty until all the other squads have cycled through patrol?"
Oakley looked at the broken skulls again with a grimace. "Yes. Maybe we can make one full skull out of the pieces, or a collage or something. One day R&R granted. Take your squad in, Lieutenant."
"Yes sir," I said, saluting him with a smile.
After showering, changing and eating a multi-thousand calorie dinner, no one in the squad had the energy to do anything but collapse into their bunks. Except Private Rodriego.
The sound of him sneaking his reporter friend into the barracks after lights out was unmistakable, her high heels clicking with each step. As was her giggling and the sounds of their kissing as they started to undress in the darkness.
I pulled my privacy curtain aside just enough to see her unzip her mini skirt and fold it over the back of a chair, where her suit jacket, shirt and bra already lay. Even in the dim emergency lighting, watching the long-legged, long-haired beauty climb into Juan's bunk in just her tiny thong inspired thoughts that I hadn't had since we had said farewell to our Playboys back on Earth. Or since my last trip to the resurrection tanks.
I shut my curtain and laid back, trying to determine if the good Doctor would be pleased or mad that she had suddenly sprung to my body's attention, as it were. Should I ask her out, or try the-keep-it-professional route? There was definitely something about her wit, her smile and her calves that...
It got harder to concentrate on the red-headed doctor as the sounds of giggling and flesh rubbing got louder from Juan's bunk. And then the creaking started. Bed springs, creaking at a quiet but piercing pitch that carried across the barracks right into my ears no matter what I put over them.
I tried to ignore it for one minute, then a second, then a third. Then the reporter started using the inoffensive M
idwestern accent she had learned in broadcasting school to moan things that would have gotten her banned from TV, forever. Juan shushed her but the creaking just got faster. For another minute. Then another.
"Just finish ALREADY!" Ann-Marie yelled from her bunk.
"Nut up or shut up!" some private agreed.
"Stop thinking of baseball- the lady has other things to do tonight!"
"Like your mom!"
Juan's hand must have slipped off of her mouth because the reporter gave a sharp cry of passion, then was muffled again. But the creaking just got faster and everyone groaned.
"Cut the chatter!" I yelled to the darkness, and it was silent except the bouncing bed springs. "Private Rodriego, as your commanding officer, I order you to FIRE YOUR WEAPON IN THE NEXT TEN SECONDS OR PUT IT AWAY!"
Within a few moments Juan screamed out at the top of his lungs, followed by the reporter's shuddering moans a second later. And then the creaking stopped. The squad broke into sarcastic applause.
"Thank you," I said, turning over to go to sleep.
The reporter's clothes were still folded on the chair in the morning, and Juan's privacy curtain was still drawn. I made sure my boxers were closed and got up to pour myself some coffee, then went over and shook Grimstone's bunk.
He rubbed his eyes and put on his thick glasses, still blinking away the sleep. "Tell me about Ridley's headband," I said in a low voice that wouldn't carry to Juan's bunk.
But it did carry to Ann-Marie's. She swung her legs over the edge of her bunk and limped over, dropping into the chair I offered. "Tell me, too."
Zazlu was also here by now. Shit. I had forgotten to watch him wake up in his new body. But he seemed to be handling it okay. He leaned against Grimmy's bunk and sipped his coffee, expectant.
Grimstone got a little nervous with the sudden intense audience, but he gulped and began.