Chip grinned. “Yeah. So what?”
“It is a bad tendency in a neo-anarcho-socialist,” said Bronstein morbidly. “Down that path lies totalitarianism.”
“For foxache, Bronstein! What has got into you now? Sure you boss people around. So what? Has Doc infected you with his philosophical crap? We’re in shit and someone’s got to make decisions. So you do. Somebody’s gotta do it, and you do it pretty well. No one is making us listen to you.”
“But do I interfere too much?” asked the bat querulously. She seemed to be seeking comfort from Chip.
But Chip had other things on his mind. “Is piss warm and wet, Bronstein?” he snorted. “Interfering is what you do best—and naturally. Like Eamon thinking of ways to blow things up. He wouldn’t be same big stupid bastard if he didn’t, and you wouldn’t be Bronstein if you didn’t interfere. Now can we quit thinking about eternal verities and get you to come and interfere in the insanity that the dumb Korozhet is talking them into now? He wants us to forget escape and go and attack something called the ‘brood-heart.’ ”
“The Korozhet said that? I think it is a good idea, then. Like going through instead of over was.”
Chip gaped at her. The whole world had gone mad!
* * *
The Korozhet used one of her spines to scratch on the dirt. “My species have spent many years studying the Magh’ and I too have gained great insights as a captive. I am an academic rather than a warrior, and I know I am too emotional and frail for such exploits, but we must impale the opportunity!”
The alien tapped the diagram. “The Magh’ tunnels are built according to a rigid pattern. We know from our victory and conquest of a scorpiary on Korozhet-prime that they are built like this. Each spiral arm has ‘highways’ which follow a central passage to the middle of the scorpiary. Every three hundred and two yit—that is about one point three of your yards to the yit—there is a cross passage and a spiral road leading up and down. The largest of the highways is always just below ground level. If we can follow it, it will lead us to the brood-heart where the Magh’ group-mind breeders are.”
Virginia shook her head. “Group-mind?”
“Indeed, Miss Virginia. It is one of the things we Korozhet have long suspected, but it was confirmed while they were torturing and questioning me. All the Magh’ within this scorpiary are effectively one being. The ‘head’ of that ‘being’ is the breeder-caste.”
“Then how come one of you Crochets gave that talk on forces radio saying they were a number of allied species?” demanded Chip. His tone was both skeptical and sarcastic.
The Korozhet was not at a loss for an instant. “This has been an ongoing argument within Korozhet ranks for many years. I can now confirm that the multi-speciesist theory is quite wrong.”
“So you’re telling us that if we get to the center of the scorpiary, kill the breeder-caste—we win the war. Ha. Tell me another one!”
“No. That might have been true when the Magh’ ship landed, but they rapidly began growing new scorpiaries. That is what the long tentacles of conquest do: Seed new brood-hearts. But you will destroy several million Magh’ as an effective enemy. Now, your trip to the brood-heart will require that you traverse considerable distance . . .” The alien poked at the diagram.
“Shtupid idea.” Pistol was distinctly full of alcohol. But, at least, thought Chip, he’d come to his senses. The idea wasn’t just stupid. It was insane. They’d go round in ever-decreasing circles to get to the middle of the scorpiary. Many miles to try and sneak into the group-mind “brood-heart.” Of course, they’d be detected. Then, if the Crotchet was right, the whole damn lot would be trying to stop them.
“Hear, hear!” exclaimed Chip.
“Yesh.” Pistol blinked owlishly. “Why go round, and round, and round like a whoreson Maggot? Take a short cut!” And with the tip of his tail he drew a straight line across the dusty whorls.
“He’s drunk again,” sneered Behan. “Never mind being killed by Maggots. If we stay here much longer the daemon drink will have away with those rats.” His tone suggested that might be a good thing.