Rats, Bats and Vats rbav-1 Page 16

  "But I'm a human!" protested Virginia coming up with the age-old defense… which is no defense. "We made you!"

  The bat shrugged. "So? We may be artificially engineered creatures, with what Chip calls `head-plastic' in our brains. But it doesn't matter what we came from, it is what we are now. Now for heaven's sake stop trying to push everyone around, especially the rats. You won friends and respect last night. Your arrogance has lost it for you this morning. Just because you're a human, and I have a soft-cyber implant doesn't mean…"

  "I've got one too," said Virginia, her voice scarcely audible.

  Bronstein was a bat. They can hear crystals grow. She cupped her wings to her ears. "What?"

  "I said, I have a soft-cyber implant too."

  "But… but… you're human!" The bat nearly lost her grip on the trellis wire.

  "Not if you define someone with an implant as not being human. By that definition the rats were quite right. I'm not human. I'm just a piece of head-plastic," Virginia said quietly.

  "But…"

  "You don't believe me. But it's true," Virginia blurted bitterly. "I was brain-damaged in an accident. My parents thought the soft-cyber implant would make me a good little robot, and no embarrassment to them. But I'm not! I'm a person! I'm still the same person I was before, it's just that I can think again. I am the same… but more."

  The bat stared silently at her for almost a minute.

  Virginia got up and stared back. "Well. What are you staring at? I know I'm a freak, but you don't have to stare. It doesn't show on the outside."

  Possibly for the first time ever, Bronstein sounded apologetic. "No, to be sure, I am staring at the first human being who can really understand that we are neither trained animals, nor cattle for slaughtering in a war. We are people, even if we are not human."

  Virginia had never thought of it that way. Even Fluff had just been a clever and beloved pet in her eyes. With sudden insight she realized he wasn't that in his own eyes. She'd bitterly resented the fact that her parents considered her to simply be a less embarrassing talking doll now that she had the implant. She wasn't a doll, and Fluff wasn't a pet.

  "Well, this is going to be something to tell the others." Bronstein's tone said she was both delighted and excited by the prospect.

  Virginia cringed. "Please don't tell Chip. Please!"

  The bat scratched her head with a wing-claw. "Why not?"

  This was terribly difficult, Virginia found. More difficult than admitting she had an implant. "Because… because then he'll think that I'm just a talking doll. And I… want him to like me."

  The bat nearly fell off her trellis wire again and had to flutter both wings to regain her balance. She shook her black head. "You humans are nearly as bad as the rats. You should be more like bats. Take a longer-term view of things. Connolly! Holy Erin! I mean, he's a decent enough human as humans go, to be sure, but it isn't like his face has interesting and attractive folds. He's rather ugly, to be honest with you, girl. Under that rat's-tail fur his face is quite smooth, I promise."

  "Just don't tell him," Virginia begged. "And, um, I don't think he's ugly."

  The bat looked the human female up and down. The black crinkled face crinkled some more, in sympathy. "Well, maybe some nice facial folds will still develop. You haven't got many yourself. Anyway, I suppose the important thing is that you like his face. What does he think of yours?"

  "Most of the time he doesn't even know I'm alive, never mind notice my face. And the rest of the time he treats me like a bad smell." Virginia twisted her slim fingers.

  "Then you must make him notice you." Bronstein, as always, was good at decisiveness.

  Virginia grimaced. "That's just what I was trying to do, in there. All I managed to do was to get those two rats to be beastly about my name. And then he wasn't even there."

  The bat looked at her with wide, dark eyes. "Why in Erin's name did you think that would impress him? And pay no attention to those foul-mouthed rats. That's just the way they are."

  Virginia finally ventured a small smile. "Because he likes you. And that's the way you are."

  Bronstein's mouth fell open. "Me? ME!! You think I'm bossy? That's RIDICULOUS, I tell you! I'll not hear such talk!"

  "Yes, ma'am. If you say so." Virginia looked down demurely.

  ***

  They were all gathered together in the tasting room, even the Korozhet, when Chip came back from his long sulk.

  Eamon was holding forth. "… so, indade, I reckon we should go through, rather than over. We'll battle to get the Korozhet up and down."

  "That is most wise," said Pricklepuss, as if it hadn't nearly got them all killed, and, in a way, been the death of Phylla.

  Chip was feeling distinctly otherwise, a common male problem when the testicles are going one way and the mind another. "NO."

  "What do you mean `no'? It's decided." Behan's tone was as snappish as the words.

  Chip looked at Behan with distaste. Of all the rats and bats, even surly Eamon, Behan was the only one Chip genuinely disliked. The bat was a camp follower if there ever was one. "I mean there is no way I am taking Pricklepuss screaming-mee-meemy on a sneak back through the Magh' tunnels. We go over, and one mistimed shriek or squeak and I'll let go of the ropes."

  Siobhan shook her head at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Chip. Tell him, Bronstein."

  "I don't want to interfere," said the bat.

  Chip almost choked. Bronstein? Not want to interfere? Ha! So she didn't like the idea either. He wondered why she didn't simply ride roughshod over it, then, like she always did.

  He decided it must be more bat politics. Chip knew that Bronstein was neck deep in one crazy bat faction, whereas Eamon was a mover-and-shaker in the other. Knowing Eamon, the shaking was probably done with a nice firm grip on someone's throat. Well. Bronstein had backed him up often enough. He'd be glad to be her hired lance for a change.

  Chip folded his arms across his chest and said: "You can't do it without me. And I won't do it. And that's final."

  Knowing Bronstein was solidly behind him, Chip stood as firm as any pylon, through all the threats, imprecations and cajolery. The truth was that he held the trump cards. Without him to do the camel work, carrying the food, carrying the Korozhet, doing the dexterous work like cutting holes, they couldn't do it. And Bronstein must have wanted his support badly, because, after not saying anything-would wonders never cease?-she fluttered out while the argument raged.

  Eventually he won. "Look. We aren't being chased. We can follow the space between the mounds back towards the front. The mounds are much lower there, and not as steep. We can do three a night. The bats can fly the line up-it's thin and light enough for them to carry-the rats and the galago follow, and when they're up, they haul up a decent anchor, and then a rope. Miss Shaw and I climb up, using the rope as a safety line. We'll use those sliding prussik loops-you know, those knots that slide one way, that Nym was telling me about, the ones we didn't need to use getting out last time. Then we haul Old Crotchet up. Lower him down the other side. Easy. Whereas if we cut our way through, we're bound to get caught sooner or later."

  Then, just when he'd won, the Crotchet turned the whole thing on its head. "I have been thinking. Miss Virginia, and other good allies in this fight against the vile Magh' scourge, the human male is right. We could escape. But should we? We have within our spines' grasp the most stunning victory. We should not seek to save ourselves, but indeed, strike a blow for our peoples! Never before has a battle-capable group stood within the force field. We can strike at the brood-heart itself! We can strike a brave, heroic blow for Humanity!"

  Chip snorted. At least he knew where he stood as to allies. He could just see the bats striking a brave blow for the sake of Humanity. As for the rats, they had a sensible grunt attitude towards volunteering, never mind volunteering for suicide missions. "Oh, that's really a fine idea, Mr. Pricklepuss," he said sarcastically.

  "Okay!" piped Siobhan. "So we're all agreed,
then?"

  Chip was startled to realize she wasn't being sarcastic. Then his startlement turned to outright shock when all the other rats and bats immediately chorused their own support for the Crotchet's loony scheme. For all the world, they sounded like fanatic enthusiasts!

  "All right then," he said coldly. He played his trump card. "I'll just go and find Bronstein and tell her that the Korozhet has decreed that we all go on a suicide mission."

  He stormed out to find her. She'd put a stop to this nonsense!

  Bronstein was on her favorite terrace, peering into the distance. Before Chip could tell her how ridiculous everybody was being, she turned on him. "Do you find me inclined to enforce my will on others?"

  Chip grinned. "Yeah. So what?"

  "It is a bad tendency in a neo-anarcho-socialist," said Bronstein morbidly. "Down that path lies totalitarianism."

  "For foxache, Bronstein! What has got into you now? Sure you boss people around. So what? Has Doc infected you with his philosophical crap? We're in shit and someone's got to make decisions. So you do. Somebody's gotta do it, and you do it pretty well. No one is making us listen to you."

  "But do I interfere too much?" asked the bat querulously. She seemed to be seeking comfort from Chip.

  But Chip had other things on his mind. "Is piss warm and wet, Bronstein?" he snorted. "Interfering is what you do best-and naturally. Like Eamon thinking of ways to blow things up. He wouldn't be same big stupid bastard if he didn't, and you wouldn't be Bronstein if you didn't interfere. Now can we quit thinking about eternal verities and get you to come and interfere in the insanity that the dumb Korozhet is talking them into now? He wants us to forget escape and go and attack something called the `brood-heart.' "

  "The Korozhet said that? I think it is a good idea, then. Like going through instead of over was."

  Chip gaped at her. The whole world had gone mad!

  ***

  The Korozhet used one of her spines to scratch on the dirt. "My species have spent many years studying the Magh' and I too have gained great insights as a captive. I am an academic rather than a warrior, and I know I am too emotional and frail for such exploits, but we must impale the opportunity!"

  The alien tapped the diagram. "The Magh' tunnels are built according to a rigid pattern. We know from our victory and conquest of a scorpiary on Korozhet-prime that they are built like this. Each spiral arm has `highways' which follow a central passage to the middle of the scorpiary. Every three hundred and two yit-that is about one point three of your yards to the yit-there is a cross passage and a spiral road leading up and down. The largest of the highways is always just below ground level. If we can follow it, it will lead us to the brood-heart where the Magh' group-mind breeders are."

  Virginia shook her head. "Group-mind?"

  "Indeed, Miss Virginia. It is one of the things we Korozhet have long suspected, but it was confirmed while they were torturing and questioning me. All the Magh' within this scorpiary are effectively one being. The `head' of that `being' is the breeder-caste."

  "Then how come one of you Crochets gave that talk on forces radio saying they were a number of allied species?" demanded Chip. His tone was both skeptical and sarcastic.

  The Korozhet was not at a loss for an instant. "This has been an ongoing argument within Korozhet ranks for many years. I can now confirm that the multi-speciesist theory is quite wrong."

  "So you're telling us that if we get to the center of the scorpiary, kill the breeder-caste-we win the war. Ha. Tell me another one!"

  "No. That might have been true when the Magh' ship landed, but they rapidly began growing new scorpiaries. That is what the long tentacles of conquest do: Seed new brood-hearts. But you will destroy several million Magh' as an effective enemy. Now, your trip to the brood-heart will require that you traverse considerable distance.. ." The alien poked at the diagram.

  "Shtupid idea." Pistol was distinctly full of alcohol. But, at least, thought Chip, he'd come to his senses. The idea wasn't just stupid. It was insane. They'd go round in ever-decreasing circles to get to the middle of the scorpiary. Many miles to try and sneak into the group-mind "brood-heart." Of course, they'd be detected. Then, if the Crotchet was right, the whole damn lot would be trying to stop them.

  "Hear, hear!" exclaimed Chip.

  "Yesh." Pistol blinked owlishly. "Why go round, and round, and round like a whoreson Maggot? Take a short cut!" And with the tip of his tail he drew a straight line across the dusty whorls.

  "He's drunk again," sneered Behan. "Never mind being killed by Maggots. If we stay here much longer the daemon drink will have away with those rats." His tone suggested that might be a good thing.

  Bronstein, however, looked thoughtful. "To be sure, but he's right though. If we blew down a few walls we could make what looks like a long way…"

  "Roughly one hundred thirty-two miles," Virginia put in, looking up from fiddling with the standard issue mini-GPS. Some Shareholder family had the contract… Chip had to acknowledge that the Shareholder-girl was terrifying with numbers. She seemed to have an innate grasp of formulae that made Chip's brain hurt just looking at them.

  "Yes. Say one hundred thirty-two miles, to a short distance, say. .."

  "Roughly seventeen point two miles."

  Chip looked at her in amazement. That's what I call mathematics. How she does it, I don't know. I'd still be here next week counting toes.

  The Korozhet tapped the drawing in the dust again. "Taking a short cut is an excellent idea, but unfortunately that is impossible. You do not have sufficient explosives, and even if you did have you couldn't carry them."

  Chip smiled nastily at the Korozhet. He still thought the whole idea was nuts, but he couldn't resist the chance to stick it to the snooty alien.

  "That's where you're wrong, Crotchet. We've got all the explosive in the world, and we can transport it!"

  Eamon looked startled. "Er, Chip, even you and Virginia can't carry that much."

  "Would a tractor load do? I'd think that would be enough even for you, Eamon."

  Eric Flint

  Rats, Bats amp; Vats

  Chapter 22:

  The gathering.

  THE KOROZHET MADE a little humph noise and pointed two of its thick spines at him. "Ridiculous! If you cannot be sensible I shall go back to my rest." Exuding a kind of sea-urchin haughtiness, Virginia's tutor prickle-ambulated out.

  Bronstein cocked her head at Chip. Chip reflected, not for the first time, that the gesture was disconcerting coming from a creature hanging upside down.

  "That's crazy, Connolly."

  Chip stood his ground. "Why is it crazy? Listen, I know you agree with me on this, Bronstein. The way this war has been fought by high command is to use us-rats, bats and Vats alike-as if we were Maggots. Has it worked? Can we can Maggot better than Maggots?"

  He glared around at them. "And who's been advising them? The Crotchets, that's who. To hell with what that critter thinks is crazy. I'm telling you this may not work, but-shit!-it'll work better than trying to blunder a hundred miles of tunnels on foot."

  They were silent. Chip waited… and then continued. "Think about it. We know Maggots can't run for long. We can outrun them. Well, at least we can for a bit without the Crotchet. We can't keep doing it. But that little tractor can outrun them and we can lug along plenty of explosives and every booby trap you can think of. We can even take Pricklepuss in comfort, faster than we can run with her."

  He squatted down and started to draw his own diagram on the floor. "We don't do this like Pistol said. The cross tunnels won't line up anyway. We go as far as we can here between the mounds, blow our way in. We can run down the main tunnel until we find a cross tunnel. Through the interstitial wall, and back onto the main drag. You know Maggots. All of the Maggots in creation will be chasing along behind us, and charging from further inside the mounds to be in front of us. If we do it right, we can come out behind them again. And keep doing it."

  "I like it," Nym
pronounced. "Besides, I want to ride that thing. Can I drive?"

  "Myself I t'ink it a foine idea." O'Niel was the most taciturn of the bats. His support surprised the others.

  "To be sure, like all military plans 'tis bound to screw up," said Bronstein gloomily. "They never survive contact with the enemy."

  "So what else do you suggest?" asked Chip, trying to be reasonable.

  The bat shrugged. Like the head-cocking, the upside-down gesture also struck Chip as weird. "Nothing. We just take plenty of booby traps along, and be prepared for the worst."

  "Let's go and have a look at this little tractor again." Eamon swung to wing. "I'm thinking of a fair number of ways to deal with Maggots, given what we've got. And I agree with you, Connolly. Human high command have always fought this war as if they wanted the Maggots to win."

  "This is something which my history-download suggests humans have often done," Doc said. "I can only put this down to the intrinsic conservatism of the human intellect, which, in turn, judging from Hegel's remarks on-"

  Chip raised his eyes to heaven. "Oh, put a sock in it, Doc."

  Fal nudged Pistol. "Do you think he gets girls to let him work his wicked will on 'em by threatening to go on talking?"

  The one-eyed rat chuckled. "Or do you think they think all that hot air makes him rise better?"

  "Ha, Ancient Pistol," said Fal assuming an attitude of profundity. "He's so windy he probably floats above them."

  "It is a good thing no one's sticking a prick into him," cackled Pistol. "He'd whizz around the room."

  Fal and Pistol heckled on cheerfully as they walked across to the workshop. Doc, as usual, paid them no mind.

  ***

  "Are you sure this thing will fit in the tunnels?" Eamon peered doubtfully at the little tractor.