“Yeah, that must be what it mean,” said Street, a frown of concentration on his face.
“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.