I nod. “You could say that.”
“Did you hear what he’s doin’?”
“Last I heard it was cleaning up a battlefield. What?”
“Big Nee sent him into the Soob on some black op thing. That’s the rumor anyway.” Spitz looks off into the seemingly endless desert, hedged in by mirages and heat waves. “Kind of makes you wonder what you gotta do to get out of crap like this and into the sket, you know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
Spitz’s guys offload a crate and then Spitz says, “That’s it. We’re, uh, supposed to be out of sight after this. Orders. So… see you around.”
I shake Spitz’s hand again. “See you around.”
Spitz rejoins his team in the back of the black transport and leaves a cloud of dust to settle into the creases of my exposed skin.
“Carter,” Abers says, “what’re we doin’, man?”
“This whole damn op has been one giant audible,” I answer, “so let’s run with it and see where we end up. Help me crack open this case.”
A rugged black rectangle, the case isn’t locked. It flips right open when we press the release. Inside are rows of bots. The little repulsor models with holocams. They’re carefully packed between pliable foam inserts.
“Found the bots?” Brisco asks, again appearing in my ear via comm.
“This would be a lot easier if you could give me the steps ahead of time, Brisco.”
“Would that I could, my friend. But I’m getting them right before you. There are some, uh, concerns about our comms having been compromised and—”
He cuts away for a while and when he comes back online, he sounds a bit chastised.
“Forget what I just said. We need you to activate the master/slave function on the bots so they all follow the same directives.”
“Okay,” I say, looking down at the row of little drones. They all look identical. “Which one is that?”
“Pick one. Each can be programmed as the master of the batch. Just gotta do what I say.”
I grab one from the middle and put my thumb against the power switch. The thing is round and with miniature, recessed repulsor housings all over it. It’s so light it doesn’t even feel like I’m holding anything. Like if I squeeze my hand it’ll shatter. I’m worried I broke it just from pressing the power button.
“It’s flashing a yellow light,” I say.
“Good. Press the button five times.”
I count each depression. “Now it’s solid yellow.”
“Press and hold for three seconds. It’ll flash green.”
I do as I’m told, wondering why this task couldn’t be entrusted to someone else. Even a koob. They got fingers and as best I can tell know how to count; I’m mookta two after all. Guess I can’t confirm whether they can count higher than that unless I kill another chieftain. Maybe it really does have to be me.
“It flashed green and now all the others have a red light glowing.”
“Perfection. Press the button on yours for ten seconds. It’ll flash blue and the rest should turn solid green.”
I obey and everything happens like Brisco says, with the added event of the bots rising out of the case and beginning to hover about ten feet above my head. I can feel my bot trying to take off as well.
“Hey, they’re activated. Should I let mine go?”
“Yeah. It’s all automatic now. Those bots are going to start recording, so you need to get your team out of the shot.”
I turn and call out, “Mount up. Big Nee doesn’t want us on camera.”
“Fine by me,” Lash mumbles as he walks past.
We climb inside and watch from the back of our transport truck, sitting on cushions that now smell irredeemably like koob.
“What’re we watching here?” Lana asks. “Because if it’s an execution…”
“I dunno,” I say. “But that thought did cross my mind.”
One of the drones descends and hovers directly in the face of Pikkek. He’s talking, but in his native language. So I don’t make out ninety-nine percent of what he’s saying.
But an interpreter helps out over the comm.
“Hey, buddy!”
It’s Nilo. And the familiarity is, I dunno, off-putting. It’s that “hey buddy” you get from someone who you know is just using you to get something for himself.
Hey buddy, you still got that truck because I’m moving next week and…
Hey buddy, how’s that thing we were going to work together on only I disappeared and now I’m checking in to see the progress…
It’s that kind of “Hey buddy.”
“Mr. Nilo,” I say, not thinking it wise to give any other reply to my employer. “I take it you’ve been informed of our progress.”
“Just now, yes. And Carter, I know we had a talk about combat and battlefield efficiencies and I know that’s a weakness. We’ll get that fixed. You’re a big part of that fix. Things are happening lightning quick right now and unfortunately, you’re seeing my ass as a result.”
“Roger that, sir.”
“Things are crazy in the Soob right now, but in a good way. And what’s happening here is going to push us over the edge. This goes as planned and Kublar is back in the hands of the koobs in a matter of days. Way ahead of schedule.”
“Right. I heard your interview a little bit before we left. Sounds like things are going well.”
“They’re going great. And I wanted to pop in personally because you probably feel like you’re getting stuck away from the real work. But you’re not. This is huge.”
“Yes, sir. I believe you, sir.”
Easy creeps up beside me. “Carter,” he whispers, “ask ’em what they’re sayin’.”
“Sir, what’s happening here? What’s Pikkek saying?”
Nilo seems only too happy to fill me in. He broadens the comm connection to reach my whole team, so they can all hear it. “He’s using his own words, but basically he’s giving a message to the Kublar from the Pekk tribe. About how the Republic forced them to be subservient to the Pashta’k even though Pashta’k was unworthy, because Pashta’k was willing to let the Republic take what it wanted from Kublar. Then he’s going on about the zhee.
