CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
“A deserter in the ranks?” Fragg shook his head, folding his hands behind his back. “That’s not good. Have you sent out search parties?”
The Slig nodded. “We followed his tracks for about a mile before they disappeared; we have three parties scanning the area, but we haven’t been able to find him.”
Fragg narrowed his eyes. “And your area scanners pick up nothing?”
“Nothing but nearby Sleg nests, sir.”
The Glukkon growled angrily. “We can’t have deserters running away every night.”
“Yes, sir.”
Fragg narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“No, sir.”
He raised one arm, as if to strike his rather dull minion. “Then shut up and leave, idiot!”
“Yes, sir!” The Slig hurried away to join some of his comrades nearby.
Fragg turned so he could see most of the Sligs in his army, raising both hands to the sky. “Continue the march – we make for Mantin City!”
The Sligs glanced at one another and muttered quietly to each other, but they began walking northeast, back toward the Glukkon capital where they had started from at the beginning of their quest for Abe, a quest which had seemingly come to nothing in the end. Fragg headed in the same direction, a scowl fixed on his face, and a useless comlink on his belt. He had tried to send more transmissions, but Abe’s signal-jamming site was still close enough to deny him any calls.
He had no idea how a Mudokon – beings who were usually not smart enough to get out of the path of an oncoming meat saw – could deal out so much death and destruction to so many people, in protection of nature. To Fragg, nature was just resources growing out of the ground, things he could use to further his path to power, things to make more and more moolah. But to all those idiotic Mudokons, nature actually seemed to be something worth protecting.
Fragg didn’t really understand why they loved nature so much. Mudokons were constantly trying to activate their ancient Storm Circles to clean the polluted water, grow more spooce, trees, and grass, make more natural habitats for the creatures of Oddworld to live in. It seemed like a waste of their time, because the Mudokons were fairly stupid and hardly knew what to do with all the ravenous carnivores they thought were worth protecting, and were more often than not killed in animal attacks.
This ridiculous war had been going on for untold centuries, even millennia, as far back as the Mudokons’ Ninth Chieftain and the Old Kingdom. Even in those days, Glukkons and their Slig attendants had fought to enslave the idiotic nature-loving Mudokons, and bring pollution all across Oddworld in the pursuit of moolah. Fragg doubted he would ever understand why this always happened.
But now, it was time he actually did something that would promote the great cause of industry.
He had something in mind: killing King Glok. The anti-cigar Glukkon was the worst thing that had ever happened to the lungbuster industry – besides the time Abe and his Marching Mudokons had taken the entire tobacco fields hostage – and Fragg didn’t intend to be one to drive any kind of industry into the ground.
Instead, he would be one who built up the industries, gave more tax dollars to the cigar companies, the animal processors, and all the other Glukkons who were dominating the public market. It was also apparent he needed to donate to whoever trained Sligs for a living.
The only problem with his plan would be that he was no real warrior, or an expert murderer. He wouldn’t be able to do the dastardly deed himself, but hiring an assassin wouldn’t be so hard to do; there seemed to be an endless amount of Wolvarks and Outlaws who wanted to be bounty hunters, even a few Sligs who had gone rogue. He would have to get rid of King Glok, so he could become king of Glukksonia and take over from the unlucky Margaret line.
And then…
A smile crossed his face. Once he was king, Glukksonia would be the biggest and most powerful nation on the face of Oddworld. He would have factories bigger than RuptureFarms, dams bigger than Sekto Springs, towns bigger than Mantin City, more slaves than anyone knew what to do with…
But that would all come after he killed Glok. Resuming his frown, Fragg set his mind to marching.
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