MYTH-Interpretations: The Worlds of Robert Asprin (39 page)

"Good. Look, there it is up ahead."

Beside the road there was a small soft shoulder, one of the few along this hilly, jungled route. Without being told, the driver pulled off the road and stopped. They sat motionless for several long moments, then Aki stepped out of the brush and waved. At the signal, the driver cut the engine and got out of the car. The two mercenaries also piled out of the car, but unlike the driver who leisurely began taking off his shirt, strode around to the back of the truck and opened the twin doors. Two men in the back, men of approximately the same description and dressed identically to Tidwell and Clancy. They didn't say anything, but strode to the front of the truck and took the mercenaries' places in the cab. Like the driver, they had been briefed.

The two mercenaries turned their attention to the crates in the back. Aki joined them.

"Are the lookouts in place?"

"Yes, sir."

"You worry too much, Steve," chided Clancy. "We haven't seen another car on this road all day."

"I don't want this messed up by a bunch of gawking tourists."

"So we stop 'em. We've done it before and we've got the team to do it."

"And lose two hours covering up? No thanks."

"I'm going to check the teams. I'll send a couple back to give you a hand here."

He hopped out of the truck and strode down the road, entering the brush at the point where Aki had emerged.

Fifteen feet into the overgrowth was a clearing where the teams were undergoing their metamorphosis. Nine in the clearing, and one in the truck made ten. Two full teams, and the buses had looked full.

The team members were in various stages of dress and undress. One of the first things lost when the teams were formed were any vague vestige of modesty. The clothes had been cunningly designed and tailored. Linings were ripped from jackets and pants, false hems were removed, and the familiar kill-suits began to come into view.

Clancy arrived carrying the first case. He jerked his head and two already clothed team members darted back toward the road. Clancy slit open the sealing tape with his pocket knife. He folded the flaps back, revealing a case of toy robots.

Easing them out onto the ground, he opened the false bottom where the swamp boots were kept. These were not new boots. They were the member's own broken-in boots. Clancy grabbed his pair and returned to a corner of the clearing to convert his clothes. One by one, the members claimed their boots and a robot and stooped to finish dressing.

Tidwell had worn his boots to speed the changing process. He whistled low and gestured, and a team member tossed him a robot. He caught it and opened the lid on its head in a practiced motion. Reaching in carefully, he removed the activator unit for his kill-suit and checked it carefully. Satisfied, he plugged it into his suit and rose to check the rest of the progress, resealing the lid on the robot and stacking it by the carton as he went.

Conversion was in full swing as more cartons arrived. The shoulder straps came off the camera gadget bags, separated, and were reinserted to form the backpacks. Fashionable belts with gaudy tooling were reversed to reveal a uniform black with accessory loops for weapons and ammunition.

Tidwell particularly wanted to check the weapons assembly. Packing material from the toy cartons was scooped into plastic bags, moistened with a fluid from the bottles in the camera bags, and the resulting paste pressed into molds previously covered by the boots to form rifle stocks. The camera tripods were dismounted, the telescoping legs separating for various purposes. First, the rounds of live ammo were emptied out and distributed. Tidwell smiled grimly at this. All the forces' weapons were "convertibles." That is, they were basically quartz crystal weapons, but were also rigged to fire lived ammo if the other forces tried to disclaim their entry into the corporate wars.

The larger section of the legs separated into three parts, to form the barrels for both the flare pistols and the short double-barreled shotguns so deadly in close fighting. The middle sections were fitted with handles and a firing mechanism to serve as launchers for the minigrenades which up to now had been carried in the 35mm film canisters hung from the pack straps.

The smallest diameter section was used for the rifle barrel, fitted with a fountain-pen telescopic sight. The firing mechanisms were cannibalized from the cameras and various toys which emerged and were reinserted into the cartons.

One carton only was not refilled with its original contents. This carton was filled with rubber daggers and swords, samurai swords. These were disbursed to the members, who used their fingernails to slice through and peel back the rubber coating to reveal the actual weapons, glittering in the in the sun. These were not rigged for use on the kill-suits.

The label on the empty box was pulled back to reveal another label declaring the contents camera parts, and the skeletons of the cannibalized cameras were loaded in, packed by the shreds of the outer clothing now torn to unrecognizable pieces.

The cartons were resealed and reloaded, and the truck was again sent along its way with a driver, two passengers, and a load of working toys and camera gear.

Tidwell watched it depart and smiled grimly. They were ready.

"Call in the lookouts, Clancy. We've got a long hike ahead of us."

"What's with Aki?"

The Oriental was running toward them waving excitedly.

"Sir! Mr. Yamada is on the radio."

"Yamada!"

"This could be trouble, Steve."

They returned hurriedly to the clearing where the team was gathered around the radio operator.

Tidwell grabbed the mike.

"Mr. Tidwell." Yamada's voice came through without static. "You are to proceed to the rendezvous point to meet with the other teams at all haste. Once there do not, I repeat, do not carry out any action against the enemy until you have received further word from me."

Tidwell frowned, but kept his voice respectful.

"Message received. Might I ask why?"

"You are not to move against the enemy until we have determined who the enemy is."

"What the hell
.
.
."

"Shut up, Clancy. Please clarify, Mr. Yamada."

"At the moment there is a cease fire in effect on the war. The government of the United States has chosen to intervene."

CORPORATION WARS CHARGED

A federal grand jury was appointed today to investigate alleged involvement of several major corporations in open warfare with each other. The Corporations have refused to comment on charges that they have been maintaining armies of mercenaries on their payrolls for the express purpose of waging war on each other. Included on the list of corporations charged were several major oil conglomerates as well as communications and fishing concerns. The repercussions may be international as some of the corporations involved (continued on pg. 28)

CORPORATIONS DEFY ORDERS

In a joint press release issued this afternoon, the corporations under investigation for involvement in the alleged Corporate Wars flatly refused to comply with government directives to cease all hostilities toward each other of a warlike nature and refrain from any future activities. They openly challenge the government's authority to intervene in these conflicts, pointing out that the wars are not currently being conducted within the boundaries of the US or its territories. They have asked the media to relay to the American people their counter-charges that the government is trying to pressure them into submission by threatening to move against the corporations' US holdings. They refer to those threats as "blatant extortion" being carried on in the name of justice, pointing out the widespread chaos which would be caused if their services to the nation were interrupted. (continued pg. 18)

AFRICANS JOIN CORPORATE OPPOSITION

The League of African nations added their support to the rapidly growing list of countries seeking to control the multinational corporations. With the addition of these new allies virtually all major nations of the Free World are united in their opposition to the combined corporate powers. Plans are currently being formulated for a united armed intervention if the corporations continue to defy (continued pg. 12)

WORLDWIDE PROTESTS SCHEDULED

Protest demonstrations are scheduled for noon tomorrow in every major city across the globe as citizen groups from all walks of life band together to voice their displeasure of the proposed governmental armed forces intervention in the Corporate Wars. War is perhaps the least popular endeavor governments embark on, and it is usually sold to the populace as a step necessary to ensure national security, a reason which many feel does not apply in this situation. Groups not usually prone to voicing protest have joined the movement, including several policemen's unions and civil service organizations. Government officials (cont. pg. 8)

COURT MARTIALS THREATENED

Armed Forces officials announced today that any military personnel taking part in the planned demonstrations will be arrested and tried for taking part in a political rally whether or not they are in uniform.

GOVERNMENT—CORPORATE
TALKS SUSPENDED

Negotiation sessions seeking peaceful settlement between the Combined Corporations and the United Free World Governments came to an abrupt halt today when several government negotiators walked out of the sessions. Informed sources say that the eruption occurred as a result of an appeal on the part of the corporations to the governments to "call off a situation involving needless bloodshed which the government troops could not hope to win." It is believed that what they were alluding to were their alleged "superweapons" which the governments continue to discount. "A weapon is only as good as the man behind it" a high-ranked U.S. Army officer is quoted as saying. "And we have the best troops in the world." With scant hours remaining before the deadline (continued pg. 7)

Lieutenant Worthington, US Army, was relieved as the convoy pulled into the outskirts of town. He only wished his shoulders would relax. They were still tense to the point of aching.

He tried to listen to the voices of the enlisted men riding in the back of the truck as they joked and sang, but shrugged it off in irritation.

The bloody fools. Didn't they know they had been in danger for the last hour? They were here to fight mercenaries, hardened professional killers. There had been at least a dozen places along the road through the jungle that seemed to be designed for an ambush, but the men chatted and laughed, seemingly oblivious to the fact the rifles on their laps were empty.

The lieutenant shook his head. That was one Army policy to which he took violent exception. He knew that only issuing ammunition when the troops were moving into a combat zone reduced accidents and fatal arguments, but damn it for all intents and purposed the whole country was a combat zone. It was fine and dandy to make policies when you're sitting safe and secure at the Pentagon desk looking at charts and statistics, but it wasn't reassuring when you're riding through potential ambush country with an empty weapon.

He shot a guilty sidelong glance at the driver. He wondered if the driver had noticed Worthington had a live clip in his pistol—probably not. He had smuggled it along and switched the clips in the john before they got on the trucks. Hell, even if he had noticed he probably wouldn't report him. He was probably glad that someone in the truck had a loaded weapon along.

The were in town now. The soldiers in back were whooping and shouting crude comments at the women on the sidewalk. Worthington glanced out the window, idly studying the buildings as they rolled past. Suddenly he stiffened.

There, at a table of a sidewalk café, were two mercenaries in the now famous kill-suits leisurely sipping drinks and chatting with two other men in civilian dress. The lieutenant reacted instantly.

"Stop the truck!"

"But sir
.
.
."

"Stop the truck, damn it!"

Worthington was out of the truck even before it screeched to a halt, fumbling his pistol from its holster. He ignored the angry shouts behind him as the men in back were tossed about by the sudden braking action and leveled his pistol at the mercenaries.

"Don't move, either of you!"

Still they ignored him. Worthington was starting to feel foolish, aware of the driver peering out the door behind him. He was about to repeat himself when one of the mercenaries noticed him. He tapped the other one on the arm, and the whole table craned their necks to look at the figure by the truck.

"You are to consider yourselves my prisoners. Put your hands on your head and face the wall!"

They listened to him, heads cocked in alert interest. When he was done, one of the mercenaries replied with a rude gesture of international significance. The others at the table rocked with laughter, then they returned to their conversation.

Worthington suddenly found himself ignored again. Reason vanished in a wave of anger and humiliation. Those bastards!

The gun barked and roared in his hand, startling him back to his senses. He had not intended to fire. His hand must have tightened nervously and
.
.
.

Wait a minute! Where were the mercenaries? He shot a nervous glance around. The table was deserted, but he could see the two men in civilian clothes lying on the floor covering their heads with their arms. Neither seemed to be injured. Thank God for that! There would have been hell to pay if he shot a civilian. But where were the mercenaries?

The men were starting to pile out of the truck behind him, clamoring to know what was going on. One thing was sure, he couldn't go hunting mercenaries with a platoon of men with empty rifles. Suddenly a voice rang out from the far side of the street.

"Anybody hurt over there?"

"Clean miss!" rang out another voice from the darkened depths of the café.

The lieutenant squinted, but couldn't make out anyone.

"Are they wearing kill-suits?" came a third voice from further down the street.

"As a matter of fact they aren't!" shouted another voice from the alley along side the café.