Sortas nodded, pulled yet another urine covered piece of alien clothing from the shower and stuck it in the sack. They wouldn't even give them rubber gloves.
"Sortas," the man working beside him said in a whisper. Sortas looked at him."A few of us are thinking about trying to make a run on the guards."
"Then only a few of you will die," Sortas whispered back."We're not soldiers, we're professional men. These are Qwah's men. You saw what they did to Kentoric, and that was just for refusing to work. I'll have no part of it. I'm going to get out of here alive if that's possible."
"Do you really think Qwah will let any of us out alive?"
No, he really didn't, but their only real chance was to hope the queen might show a little mercy. Escape was just the quickest way to die."It's a better chance than escape."
"You two shut up!" one of the guards bellowed.
Zarco had helped the nobles to displace these men from their cushy, well paid jobs as castle security. Now that they were back, it wasn't likely they were going to let him forget it.
They were doomed. Men with a death sentence waiting to be hung. Maybe it was better to at least try to make a break for it. Maybe a quick death was the best they could ask for.
"I'll look ridiculous!" Van Gar protested, pulling on the way-too-small uniform he and five of his Chitzsky brothers and sisters had been dressed in.
"Honey, shut up and do what the director tells you," Drew said as wardrobe went about putting the final touches on the new "general's" uniform she was wearing.
"Tell me again why the uniforms are three sizes too small," Shreta asked, struggling with the collar of her "costume."
"Because it makes you look bigger," the director said. He addressed them."Now, when I cue you, you will stick these pills into your mouth." He handed them out."They will then start to foam. Let the foam erupt naturally from your mouth, and snarl and look like ravenous beasts. This is your motivation. You have come here to make your home, but no sooner have you bought your property and started to set down roots than these bastard Lockhedes start bombing your new homeland. You're a warrior race, and you're not going to stand for that. So you will don the uniform of a Barion soldier and do your part at the front lines to protect your new homeland. Do you have that?"
They all nodded.
"Let's see it then! A little maniacal but righteous anger . . . without the pills." The Chitzskies all started growling."Very good, I'm living it." He turned to Drewcila."You, my queen, need no direction." He turned away from her and shouted."Lex! Lex, get over here!"
The actor who had been playing the Captain of the starship Intertwined ran over, a wardrobe woman still fussing over his general's uniform.
"No offense, but aren't people going to recognize him and realize that your top military advisor is a two-bit TV actor?" Van Gar asked in a whisper at Drew's shoulder.
"No, they'll think,
Gods! Why that general is so good looking he looks just like that actor Lex Icon.
People like to follow and take orders from attractive people, everybody knows that," Drew explained.
Van Gar threw up his hands and walked over to join his Chitzsky brothers and sisters in front of the blue screen, practicing looking mad.
"Dartan, are you ready?" the director asked.
"I suppose so," he said, adjusting the glasses the director had made him wear because he said they made him look smarter.
"Everyone! Take your places and remember you have to get it right the first time. This is live television people, there will be no second take. Are we ready?" He looked around quickly."Then start shooting in three, two, gods! I hate shooting live television, one!"
Ralling was watching their doctored report of the events at Hepron Station for the fortieth time, thinking what a stroke of genius it had been, when suddenly his monitor phased out, and then there was a Barion reporter in glasses looking at him. The man was standing in what appeared to be some huge underground chamber carved from solid rock.
"The queen has called a press conference, and we are waiting now for her to enter the war room from where she plans to make her monumental speech concerning the Lockhedes' most recent attack and the state of our military readiness, which has been under fire from the Lockhedes. We are currently in a secret underground bunker, miles below the surface of the planet. This war reaction base was set up three years ago to harbor the king and queen and top aides in case of attack. A facility from which they could conduct a war safely. Special communications equipment has been set up to boost the signal so that the people of Barious can be kept abreast of all that is going on even though we are many miles below the surface of the planet . . . It appears the queen is now prepared to speak."
Then Qwah's face filled his screen. Ralling wondered if his enemies knew that by boosting their signal to get it above ground they had boosted to every monitor on the planet. Stupid woman. He had but only to watch his TV to learn all of their plans.
"People of Barious. Since these are such urgent times I will try to speak to you in language you understand, so that we won't need an interpreter between us. This is not a time for mirth. I, your Queen, must address you on a matter of grave importance. As you know, the nobles did push us into a war with the people of Lockhede. I have tried to explain our position—that of your king, my dearly departed husband, and my position as well—but most of the leaders of Lockhede want to bring death upon their own heads. Only one of their leaders, who shall remain nameless for his own safety, has spoken out to try and save his people. Unfortunately, the others would not heed."
The camera panned out then, and Ralling could see that Qwah was flanked by a large, good looking Barion man, and a Valtarian lizard woman. All three wore stunning black uniforms with literally dozens of medals hanging from them. All around them were maps and charts and sophisticated electronic devices of all kinds.
Qwah continued, "Still, despite their stubbornness, I have given them forty-eight hours in which to stop this madness. I do not believe that they will. Some idiot has told them that they are militarily superior. Rest assured, my people, and sleep soundly, because this is not the case. They have doctored tapes of the battle of Hepron Station, bringing lies to their people. But you, my people, have seen the reality of what happened and know that while we were out-numbered and out-gunned, we did utterly smite them . . . That's like queen talk for we killed the shit out of them. I can only guess that they have done this to raise the morale of their demoralized people. These people are hungry, they're poor, and the man who is their president was not even elected by them, but is a man who—unlike the nobles of our country—led a
successful
coup against the people of his country.
"We should not be angry with the people of Lockhede, for this is not their war. Oh no, this is the war of their filthy rich leaders. Leaders who will put their people in harm's way to take that which is rightfully ours. The sad truth, my people, is that they never wanted trade agreements with us. They don't want to enjoy the same wealth as we do—they don't want to share. The leaders of the Lockhede nation want it all, or they want nothing. They want what you have, what we have worked for. They want to take our homes, our factories, our spaceports.
But they will not succeed
.
"I have made an agreement with the Chitzsky people. They have purchased the land the nobles are being evicted from, and the money they have paid for this land will be used to further add to our defensive capabilities. The Chitzskies had just made payment on this land when the first of the bombs rained down on Hepron Station. They rushed to our aide, and this is how we did so utterly smite . . . I can see why everyone likes that word so much . . . utterly
smite
the Lockhedes at Hepron Station.
Our
homeland is now
their
homeland, too, and they consider the attack on us to be an attack against them. They have joined our army, are currently being put into position, and even as I speak to you, my people, they are ready to attack on my command. And now a few words from Four Q General Jurak on the state of our military readiness."
The camera panned up at the big man standing behind her."Let me first say that our armed forces stand firmly behind the queen. Any confusion caused by the nobles' uprising is firmly behind us. We have never been more willing and more able to serve any monarch in the history of our country. There are rumors flying around that much of our military arsenal has been scrapped. This is simply not true. Yes, military equipment has been scrapped out and sold, but that was defective and/or obsolete equipment, and money from the sale of it has been used to buy state-of-the-art equipment and build underground, covert bases all over the country. It has also been used to place anti-aircraft guns on all of our larger buildings, and to purchase many tanks. We have never been as militarily strong as we are now, and let us not forget that the last time we fought the Lockhedes, we did . . ."
"Say
utterly smite
. I just like the way it sounds," the queen prompted.
"We did
utterly smite
them. Let me close by saying . . ." he seemed to be rattled then, as if not quite sure of what he was going to say next. Then his voice rang out strong and true, and with a strength of purpose the likes of which Ralling had never heard before."We are determined that if they continue to travel in these temporal streams, we will knock them back to a time
where they didn't even exist!"
"Very well said. Thank you, General," the queen said."So, my people, kick back, pop a brew, and wait for the fireworks." An interpreter suddenly appeared in a little box at the bottom of the screen, and was busily explaining the queen's words."If they will not make peace with us, then we're going to kick their asses up around their shoulders so that they have to wear them for collars, walk with their fingertips, and eat with their toes. The decision rests on the shoulders of their country's leaders. They must make peace and start negotiations for trade agreements, or we will turn their country into a smoldering hole. Which, by the way, I understand would be an improvement."
She nodded her head, and the reporter was back on camera fidgeting with his glasses and his earpiece.
"I'm told we have footage of some of the Chitzsky troops and the new tanks which are on the move heading towards a destination unknown. Apparently these are shock troops, and will be deployed at a moment's notice if any attack is made on Barion soil. This is live via satellite and . . . There we go."
The monitor showed acre upon acre of huge Chitzskies foaming at the mouth and pounding on their chests while uttering alien battle cries. There were thousands of them. The scene changed swiftly to long, straight lines of high-tech tanks rumbling along to a destination unknown.
Thousands
of them, extending as far as the eye could see.
The reporter was back on the screen."We will try to keep you updated on all the recent events as we have the details."
The screen went black, and then returned to the fake video Ralling had been watching.
He punched a button on his communicator."Tryte! Get down here now!"
"That's a wrap!" Sabtos screamed."Dartan, you were beautiful," he said. Dartan nodded back from where he stood in the fake cavern that had been built in the hallway by hanging a black sheet behind him and spraying foam on the walls, rounding the corners off with it and then cutting, shaping, and painting it so that it looked like rock.
Sabtos walked back into the "war room" and gushed.
"My Queen! What can I say? You were exquisite! Chitzskies, I was totally believing your anger and ability to tear Lockhedes limb from limb." He turned his attention to Lex and clicked his tongue."Lex . . . what the hell were you thinking?"
"That . . . that bumble-fingered grip dropped the cue cards, and I couldn't remember my lines," he said throwing up his hands.
"I thought it was brilliant improvisation," Drewcila said, patting him on the shoulder. Lex made a face at the director and stuck out his tongue.
"How soon will the tanks be done?" Drew asked the director.
"The boys in special effects are wizards. I'd say twelve more hours. Tops," he assured her.
"Good. And the real general tells me the area is well guarded with anti-aircraft guns," Drew said almost to herself.
Van Gar walked over to her, taking off his too tight shirt as he did so, and making her smile appreciatively."I don't get it, Drew. Why are you pulling protection away from real targets to protect fake tanks?"
"All shall soon be revealed." She looked from Arcadia to Van Gar."Whose turn?"
"Mine," Arcadia said with a smile.
"All right. Come on, I need a recharge." She looked back at Van Gar."Meet you in about . . ." she looked back at Arcadia.
"Hour and a half."
'. . . in the dining room. We'll all have dinner." She kissed Van Gar on the cheek, took Arcadia's claw and started dragging her out of the room."You know, this is just twisted enough that it might work."