So here it is. 16 chapters left after this.
The end draweth nigh.
Chapter 70
From the main hub I traveled to Zulag 8. This was the Zulag where they kept all the food for the workers and stock animals.
The ball car I traveled in let me off in a small room with three hallways stretching off to the left, right, and straigt ahead. I moved off to the left hall.
A short walk down this corridor brought me to three doors, two on either side of the hall, and one at the far end.
These doors, I knew, would open up on sub zulags where the flits were kept. I had worked a brief stint here not too long ago. And not to mention, there was the undeniable scent of fresh (and not-so-fresh) meat in the air.
And … some other smell intermingled with the odor of the flits. There was something about it that my glukkon mind decided would make a decent meal, though not one of royal proportions. But my mudokon instincts found the stench unbearable.
In the safety of my glukkon disguise, I called for help. A slig came a-running.
“Hey!”
“Hi.”
“What’s that smell?”
The slig took a sniff, and appeared to consider. “Hmm … oh.” He nodded, placing the smell. “That’s the new mudokon test product. Boss Icarus tried it even after that Dante guy escaped.”
I had heard rumors about myself before, but now was my chance to hear what the glukkons thought. I asked the slig if he had heard anything about that Dante guy.
“What are you, new? After Vladimir pitched his idea, Icarus practically shit himself trying to test it out. The first mudokon they took away grew hostile, killed a few sligs, and slipped into the sewers. We sent a few guys down after him, but none of them came back. We assumed that Dante guy wasted them and got away.”
Well, well. They had to expect the worse, didn’t they? That was why that tribe of sligs had been camped out on my road through the wastelands, and that was why the two mudokon villages had been overtaken. Because they were searching for me.
“Oh,” I said. “Well, I take it Icarus went on ahead with the plan anyway?”
The slig nodded again. “Of course. One escaped mudokon won’t stop progress. Although if he were to show his face here, the whole facility would likely go on full alert. After that guy Abe got loose and what not, things are getting more and more dangerous for big facilities like this.”
I nodded in perfect understanding. I might not like the facts, but damned if I didn’t understand it.
I turned to the door on my left, suddenly formulated a plan, and spun back to the slig. I took a big, dramatic sniff, and wrenched my face into a study in disgust. “Well, call it what you will, but I think that the mudokon meat is spoiled. Go and find some others to assist you in disposing of it.”
The slig buzzed in consent, and radioed for some help. We stood around for about thirty seconds, and then about five sligs came marching up. They conversed briefly in their slig language, then walked into the left sub-zulag. I followed closely, pretending I was supervising the work.
As the sligs began to load crates - stenciled with the legend “Test Product” - onto a cart to be taken to the Recycler, slinked off and behind a high stack of crates. I switched back over to my mudokon form and contacted Nine, the mudokon who held my scrab morph.
A few seconds later I stood, majestic, in
MY TERRITORY, which is more or less wherever I happened to be as a scrab. I would have to be fast in order to avoid being shot, but perhaps the howl of the Scrab would scare the sligs enough to give me a few extra vital seconds.
And I
HOWLED. And I felt
THE SHREDDING POWER course through me.
Sure enough, there was a confused uproar from the sligs. What was that and Where did it come from and You don’t suppose that was a scrab.
I charged, jaws snapping and legs pumping. I tore through the huddle of sligs in a few seconds. I think one might have tried to raise his gun, but I snapped his arms off in mid-movement.
In the end my scrab instincts overrode mine, and I let them … to a point. I/it danced atop the remains of the sligs, tearing the meat into a pulp that I/it could easily swallow. I/it ate of it, but soon stopped after accidentally trying to swallow a broken piece of the slig pants.
I soon took over and switched back to my mudokon body. I whistled a loud and piercing greeting to the mudokons in the area, who were busy scrubbing floors and stacking crates. As they came over, I picked up on of the slig guns, disgusting thing it was, and aimed a shot at the Zippy overhead. The kickback strained my forearm, and my hand throbbed, but the Zippy went down, allowing me to chant and free the mudokons.
