"So what kinda enemy can't they handle with the stun ray?" said Harry, looking at the faces of his audience. "Gotta be robots!" He slapped his hand on his thigh with a loud smack.
"Sarge's makin' sense," said Double-X, almost against his will.
"Damn straight I'm makin' sense," said Chocolate Harry, seizing his advantage. "They've brought us in here because they have a robot invasion. It's as plain as the nose on Tusk-anini's face. The stun ray's worthless, and it's the Legion that's gotta pick up the pieces. And you know who that means."
He stared around at the ring of now-worried faces, hanging on his every word. "If I was you, I'd be makin' sure I had plenty of robot camo, and I'd be practicin' my conventional weapons. 'Cause when the hammer comes down, you're the ones gotta stop it. Got it?"
"Sure do, Harry, sure do," said Street. "Thanks for the tip-off." He began backing slowly away, and the others followed suit.
"If you need any more camo, you know where to get it," said Harry, managing somehow to keep a straight face. Nobody took him up on the offer. But he knew they would. All he had to do was wait for his new story to spread. He picked up the biker magazine and began searching for the article he'd been reading.
Journal #540
At the same time as my employer and I were visiting the Zenobian commanders, they had sent a delegation to our camp. Appropriately, it was headed by the Zenobian most familiar with our race and with Omega Company. It did not escape my observation that this state of affairs deprived my employer of his most likely ally in dealing with the aliens. And while my employer claimed to see nothing suspicious in this circumstance, the phrase "exchange of hostages" inevitably came to mind.
"Lieutenant Strong-Arm, it is a pleasure for me to welcome you to Zenobia!" The translator-altered voice startled Lieutenant Armstrong, but he recognized it even before he'd finished turning around to face the speaker.
"Flight Leftenant Qual!" Armstrong allowed himself a broad smile. The little Zenobian had been a military observer with Omega Company, both on Lorelei Station and on Landoor, and after an initial period of distrust, he had become a favorite with the company's officers and enlisted legionnaires. Now, here he was, stepping out of a hovercar of what must be the local design. Two uniformed companions followed him through the doorway. "Welcome to our camp," said Armstrong.
"This is a very fine station, Lieutenant." Flight Leftenant Qual made a sweeping gesture, indicating the entire Omega Company encampment, nodding vigorously. "The resourcefulness of you humans impresses. I am here to provide briefing as to your mission, at the same time as Captain Clown receives it from my superiors."
"Very good," said Armstrong, who had already been informed of Qual's imminent arrival. "Would you like me to show you the camp, or do you need to get to work?"
"I will instruct my subordinates to set up our shelter," said Qual, indicating a large bundle the other two Zenobians were unloading from the Zenobian hover vehicle, which had landed just outside Omega Company's perimeter. He turned and gave instructions to his soldiers, who replied in his own language. After a bit, Qual nodded and turned to Armstrong again. "All is preparing. We locate adjacent to our machine, so that attaching to it, we do not depend on your power supply. Now, the time is to provide briefing."
"OK, Rembrandt's in command while the captain's away, so she'll need to hear this," said Armstrong. "She may want to bring in the sergeants, too. Let's go to headquarters and find out." He led the way to the MBC, with Qual waving to various legionnaires who recognized their old friend.
At headquarters, Rembrandt, Armstrong, and Brandy were waiting: Phule's major subordinates. Sushi and Do-Wop, who'd been assigned to investigate the invaders' invisibility, had also come to the briefing.
After a quick round of greetings, Qual came directly to his point. "What I am here for is to find what you need in the way of intelligence to carry out your mission against the Hidden Ones," he said.
"Hidden Ones?" Sushi's eyebrows went up a notch. "Oh, I get it-you're talking about the invaders. The captain's told us a little about the problem. We're working on it, although we haven't had time to get much beyond the basics. What I'd really like to figure out is how these aliens have avoided detection."
"Yes, manifest accordance," said Qual. "There is a great military secret there, I am sure, and one that both our forces would doubtless wish to have access to."
"That's right," said Rembrandt. "Do you have any leads yet, Sushi?"
"It's a stumper," admitted Sushi. "But as far as theory goes, I can't see any easy explanation that fits in with accepted science. You shouldn't be able to change the molecules of a living body so that light can pass through them unaffected-not and keep the body alive."
"Maybe the theory's wrong," said Armstrong, fiddling with a pencil. He was always impatient with abstractions.
"Could be," said Sushi, shrugging. "But molecular structure's just one problem. Invisibility flies in the face of half a dozen principles. With all those impossibilities piled on top of one another, maybe the original premise is wrong somehow."
"Oho, Sushi, I see how you are intending," said Qual. He opened and closed his mouth, with a very impressive display of fangs. "Nonetheless, I can tell you, we have left nothing to chance. The coordinates of the Hidden Ones' transmissions were most carefully plotted, and the arrival of our forces was kept masked until the ultimate moment. The site was investigated with thoroughness, and nothing was learned. I can speak with certainty, for I was among the investigators."
"Well, I'd trust you to spot anything that was there to be spotted," said Rembrandt. "I can see what Sushi's getting at, too, but I think we've got to assume the Zenobians know what they're talking about."
"I'll take Qual's word for the observations," said Sushi. "What I question is the Zenobians' conclusion. The Alliance uses a lot of camouflage and stealth technology. What's to say that these invaders don't have even more advanced stealth technology than our forces?"
"Well, that's precisely what we're assuming," said Rembrandt. "But the Zenobians detected the Hidden Ones' signals very easily once they found the frequency. That argues that their technology isn't particularly advanced. Why, any properly stealthed signal is practically indistinguishable from normal background radiation."
"So it is," said Qual. "Our inability to locate these Hidden Ones is strong evidence that in one respect, at least, they are more advanced than either of us. It is not a good idea to underestimate them."
"That's what I'm worried about, yes," said Armstrong.
"It's never a good idea to underestimate somebody who might be invading you."
"Captain Clown can tell you that we are estimating the Hidden Ones as a big difficulty," said Qual. "It is clear from their transmissions that they are already on our planet, scouting for suitable sites to establish settlements. But they make no attempt to contact us, do not reply to our signals on their own wavelengths. We must by default conclude that their intentions are hostile."
"Yeah, I'm afraid that's the obvious conclusion," said Rembrandt. "The question that raises is, what are we going to do about it?" She looked around the room, but nobody seemed to have an answer.
"Do you really intend to give that pair of scamps carte blanche to investigate this problem, sir?" Beeker's disapproval was plain on his face.
"Sure, why not?" Phule looked puzzled. "I'm sure the Zenobians have their experts working on all the conventional ways to solve the problem. We might as well put our money on the unconventional approach. Sushi's as good on the computer as anybody in the company, and Do-Wop's got the equivalent of a master's degree in low cunning. Maybe they'll crack it-and if they don't, this'll keep them out of trouble for a while."