Harry continued as if he hadn’t heard Sushi’s stage whisper. “The thing is, robots can only see in certain frequencies. So if you’re wearing certain colors-stuff in the purple end of the spectrum, for example-they just naturally can’t see you, and you can sneak right up on ’em. And it just so happens I’ve got in a supply of robot-proof camouflage…” He waved toward a large crate, marked Phule-Proof Camo.
“Which you’ll make available, at a price, to anyone who wants a little insurance,” prompted Super-Gnat.
“Why, sure,” said Harry, his face devoid of all guile. “I’d purely hate to see anybody get hurt if we ended up in a bad robot situation and they weren’t prepared, y’know? So who wants some?”
“I think I’ll pass,” said Do-Wop. “But somehow, I don’t think you’ll have any shortage of takers, Sarge.”
“Sushi, I sure hope you’re right,” said the supply sergeant. “In my job, you’ve got to think ahead, and I’m just glad I thought of this particular possibility before it turned into a real problem.”
“Harry, you’re a pure genius,” said Sushi, shaking his head with admiration. “I bet we’ll see half the squad wearing purple before we leave Landoor.”
“I hope it’s more than that,” said Chocolate Harry. “Why, I’ll hardly rest until I know we’re all safe from the robots.”
“Harry, somehow I know we will be,” said Sushi. He nodded in the direction of Stammer, who was already wearing a purple field vest over his fatigues. Stammer, noticing the attention, lifted his chin and favored his comrades with a satisfied smirk. “Yes indeed, Harry,” said Sushi, “somehow, I know you’ll be able to rest very comfortably.”