~ CHAPTER THREE
I.
Mub and Tim crept silently through the last wisps of white mist that trailed around the trunks of the stunted pine trees, peering at the black shape looming ahead of them. They edged carefully around a pine tree, as quietly as possible - but Tim suddenly stood on a root and fell forward, landing on a broken branch. In the silence of the foggy morning the crack was immensely loud, and the two Mudokons froze at a noise from the Slig camp.
Emerging from the mist were two Sligs. Mub slipped back behind the tree, and Tim struggled to his feet. More cracking branches reverberated around the trees, and the Sligs drew closer. Tim's foot was caught under a branch; he pulled it free, jumped to his feet, and found himself face to face with the larger of the Sligs, who let out a scream as loud and as long as anything either of the Mudokons had ever heard.
Mub stepped out from behind the tree and rapped the screaming Slig on the head with his miniature tomahawk, Thunk, sending him toppling. The other turned and disappeared at top speed back through the camp's entrance.
"We gotta get outta here!" said Tim, stepping carefully back over the branch. He could hear shouting from within the camp, and he didn't like it.
Mub nodded, and the two of them turned to leave. Ahead of them, half-visible through the fog, stood a Slig larger than they would have thought possible. Although only as tall as Tim, he had muscles on his arms as thick as the Mudarcher's entire body. His mechanical pants had been modified so as to hold his wait, and in his hands he held a long and deadly-looking gun.
"Neow," he said, "jus' whey-a d'you two thank yer goin'?"
Mub and Tim span around, and found themselves facing what seemed to be the entire Slig residency. A Slig in the lead, wearing a bright red uniform that clashed horribly with the colour of his skin, held a long pole in his hands. At the top of this was a speaker with a red light on it which, with a crackle, came to life.
"Mudokons!" it wheezed. "Or, more correctly, trespassers!"
"Tressawhats?" said Mub warily.
The speaker laughed. "Trespassers!" it said. "It means you came on my land without my permission. I'm going to have to execute you for that - 'execute' means 'kill.'"
"We know what eggsekoot means!" snapped Tim. "And what d'you mean, your land? This here's Mudokon territory!"
"Bah!" said the speaker. "Not any more, mortal!"
Mub snorted, and Tim asked, "Who do you think you are, huh? You're just a speaker on a pole!"
"A speaker on a pole!?" cried the speaker on the pole in outrage. "Mudokon scum, I am the General Ackrodisiac. No one calls me a speaker on a pole and lives! Himmison, I give you permission to execute these Mudokons presently."
The muscly Slig grinned and raised his gun, pointing it at Tim. Without hesitation Mub whipped out Thunk once more and, with an echoing warcry of defiance, struck Himmison across the side of the head. However, the extra-protection mask the Slig was wearing was as hard as a Mudokon Drone, and the tomahawk did as little damage as it possibly could.
Himmison grinned, and pulled the trigger. There was a click, and a large cylinder slid out the end of the barrel. "Shucks, thet wuz a dud!" he said, and the two Mudokons turned and ran into the clearing fog.