"Commander
Fallon will bust me to bat herder for this." Ambitious and
headstrong at twenty-three, Jon was the youngest Cavern Guard ever
to be promoted to Perimeter Patrol. He activated his communicator,
wondering if this bright summer morning would mark the end of his
career.
"Three
to Control, over."
"Go
ahead, Three."
"I've
had an accident, Control. I'm on the surface."
"Is
there a security breech?"
"Negative."
"Are
you hurt?"
"Not
seriously."
"What
is your back-up's status?"
"I
have no back-up, Control."
"No
back-up? You know you're not supposed to do topside maintenance
without one."
"Yes,
sir. I thought I could clear an air shaft obstruction by myself. I
was afraid the climate barrier might have been damaged.”
"Is
your uniform intact?"
"Affirmative."
"What
is your location?"
"Air
shaft seventeen-victor."
"Dispatching
rescue squad, stand by."
"Standing
by." Jon still couldn't get used to the idea of a bug costume
as Perimeter Patrol uniform, but knew it was necessary to mislead the
moronic surface dwellers. The uniforms had to be worn by anyone
leaving the caverns' security for the polluted surface world. They
came with built-in aerosol dispensers which emitted noxious fumes,
giving morons the fallacious idea that cave dwellers were nothing
more than giant stink bugs. Absurd, yet effective.
"Control
to Three, over."
"Go
ahead, Control."
"Rescue
squad en route, ETA 15 minutes. Please describe the exact nature of
your accident."
"I
was patrolling victor section and noticed a dead tree had fallen
against air shaft seventeen. I climbed up to dislodge the tree but
slipped. I am currently at the base of the shaft with my left leg
pinned under the tree. Stand by, Control; possible code 7."
Code
7 was the signal for approaching danger and told the dispatcher to
maintain radio silence. Jon reached for his aerosol fumigator, but
it had been damaged in the fall. He heard the morons talking as they
entered the clearing, in the center of which was air shaft
seventeen-victor. A vertical steel cylinder enclosed by an earthen
berm, it looked like the entrance to an enormous insect nest.
“Lookie
there, Bobo," said the fat moron. "It's one of them giant
stink bug nests. Let's go check it out!"
"Shoot
no! You ever smelled one of them bugs? It'll gag a maggot."
Bobo was taller than the fat one, and hairy.
"Awe,
come on. You afraid of a dang bug?"
"Okay,
but if I get stink on me, I swear I'll knock a knot on your head."
"I
dare you to climb up that blowed-over tree and look down in there!"
"Dares
go first -- Hey, look! That tree done squished one of them bugs!
Oh, man, I hope it didn't squish the stink out of him!"
Jon
risked a whispered transmission. "Positive code 7, multiple
morons. Locking communicator in transmit mode."
"Is
he dead, Bobo?"
"He
must be. I don't smell no stink. Help me move this tree and we'll
find out."
Jon
couldn't help groaning when the tree came off his leg.
"Did
you hear that, Bobo? He's alive! Let's put the poor critter out of
his misery!"
"Sounds
good to me. Let's whack him with these here big sticks."
Without
an injured leg, Jon could have taken the two morons easily . He
needed a plan.
"Hello
gentlemen," Jon said as the morons raised their sticks to smash
his skull. "Thank you for removing that dreadful tree from my
leg. It was so very painful, you know."
The
fat moron screamed. They dropped their sticks and ran. Jon breathed
a sigh of relief.
"Whoa,
wait a minute," Bobo said. "What the heck was that?"
They stopped and looked back. "A talking stink bug! Hmm...
he's crippled, he didn't stink us; I know, let's take him back to
town and show the others!"
Great,
thought Jon. Now what? "Easy with the leg, fellows."
Jon
had an idea on the way but needed information. "Thanks again
for rescuing me. By the way, what kind of bugs are you?"
"We
ain't bugs, you idiot!" the fat one answered. "We're men!
Ain't you ever seen no men before?"
"Men,
eh? I see. Do you live in underground nests like us stink bugs?"
"Heck
no. We live up here on top of the ground. You ain't very smart, are
you?"
"Apparently
not. You 'men' certainly seem to have a corner on the intellect
market."
"Huh?"
"Never
mind. So tell me, how big is this town of yours?"
"It's
a big one. We got this many men and this many women." He held
up a total of seven fingers. Bobo here, he's the head guy. Ain't
that right, Bobo?"
"Don't
you feel kind of stupid talking to a sting bug?" replied Bobo.
"Don't
you go calling me stupid, Bobo! I'll kick your butt!"
"Oh
yeah?"
"Yeah!"
Jon
grinned. Seven adults, he thought. Things are looking up. Bobo and
the fat one argued all the way to town.
Soon
the other morons were assembled to see Bobo's spectacular talking
stink bug, and Jon began to unfold his plan; the leg much better.
"Good
afternoon, everyone. I wish to publicly thank Bobo and his friend
for saving me from certain death. They are true heroes."
Bobo
blushed amid scattered applause. Morons are so easy, Jon thought.
"I
now have some wonderful news!" Jon paused for effect but soon
realized they were too stupid to recognize suspense. "I was
afraid to say this to my friends earlier; they are so strong and
powerful I feared for my safety. Now I see that you are a peaceful
and wise people, so I must tell you the truth: I am not a bug, but a
man!" He expected awed gasps but was greeted instead with slack
jaws and glazed eyes. These were the same morons, after all, that
bought the talking bug story in the first place. He began removing
his uniform, glad that he had not worn his valentine boxers. "My
people live underground in caves, disguised as giant stink bugs."
"How
come?" asked Bobo.
How
could he answer truthfully? How could he tell them that, because of
their own irresponsibility, the world's population of stupid people
had exploded? How could he tell them that their wars and mob
mentality had rendered the earth's surface a toxic wasteland? They
would never understand that their kind had been too stupid to listen
to the remaining handful of clear thinkers, forcing them to take it
upon themselves to withdraw from society in order to rebuild it.
Instead he said, "We were scared of you. But now I see you are
kind and smart, and mean no harm to us cave dwellers."
"I
hate caves," said Bobo.
"You
would like our caves," Jon said, dangling his carefully prepared
carrot. "We have lots of cool clean water, big fans that pull
in fresh air, and plenty of delicious food!"
Finally,
the reaction he wanted from these blockheads. "Food?" said
Bobo. "What kind of food? Meat? Roots? How much?"
"All
kinds, and all you can eat! Would you like to come back with me and
have some? If you like it, I'll bet I can talk my leaders into
making you a part of our civilization. A very intimate
part." He hoped Commander
Fallon was listening, and would get his meaning.
"You're
nothin' but a lying bug!" the fat one yelled. "I say we
kill him!"
"Kill
the bug! Kill the bug!" They grabbed their whacking sticks and
converged on Jon.
Even
if his communicator was still transmitting, Jon knew he was on his
own. Ethics protocol prevented anyone from initiating a direct
confrontation, so the rescuers wouldn't even have left the caverns.
Harming another human by one's own hand was strictly prohibited
except in self defense. If he couldn't get himself out of this, he
was dead.
"Bobo!"
Jon whispered. "I need your help! Get me out of this and I'll
make sure my people give you anything you want!"
"Even
potatoes?"
"More
than you could ever eat!"
"Okay."
Then to the mob, "Settle down, everyone! We ought to go check
this out. Don't forget, I'm the head guy. If you all don't do what
I say, I'll kick every one of your butts. This here bug, or whatever
he is, seems like a pretty good fellow. We're going."
"Great!"
said Jon. "Say Bobo, my friend, might I borrow a set of clothing
to wear on the way back?"
"I
don't care."
When
they arrived at air shaft seventeen-victor, there was nothing to
indicate that they were expected. Suddenly a ladder appeared and
dropped down.
"Welcome,
friends!" Commander Fallon's voice boomed over a megaphone.
They had monitored Jon's communicator after all. "Join us! We
have prepared a sumptuous feast in your honor!"
"Huh?"
said Bobo.
"They
fixed a lot of food for you," Jon replied.
"Hot
dang! Let's climb in and get after it!"
Jon
and the commander led them deep into the caverns through a maze of
cool passages to a banquet hall lit by phosphorescent green fungi.
The morons had never seen such a spread of fine food. While they were
eating, Jon outlined his plan to Commander Fallon. The veteran
Perimeter Patrol officer nodded his approval. After an hour of burps,
belches, and other ill-mannered bodily expulsions, the morons were
satiated.
"What
was all that stuff?" Bobo asked.
"The
meat was bat," said Jon. "We have produced a breed of
carnivorous bat that weighs seventy-five pounds when grown."
"Carni--what?"
"Carnivorous;
meat eaters. Every night they fly topside to feed. This dish over
here is made from mushrooms that grow deep in the caverns, and these
vegetables were grown with a special kind of light thing." He
felt disinclined to describe fiber optics technology to a bunch of
bloated morons.
"Hey,
wait a minute," said Bobo. "Did you say mushrooms? Ain't
them poison? You're trying to kill us!" He jumped up, tipping
the table over onto Jon and Commander Fallon. "Come on,
everybody! Run for it!"
"Let
them go, Jon," said the commander. "We can still make this
work. Follow them, but not too closely. We must avoid a
confrontation. Go ahead, I'll take care of the lighting."
"Yes,
sir."
It
wasn't hard for Jon to tail the fleeing morons. They made plenty of
noise and never bothered to look back. They weren't accustomed to the
low light levels, a fact Jon had counted on heavily.
"Follow
me," Bobo said. "I see sunshine through that door there."
On
they ran, only to find themselves in another maze of subterranean
tunnels.
"There!
More sunshine! Come on!" They ran and ran, through one hope
for freedom after another, until finally coming to a stop. "This
here's the shaft where we came in! See, there's the ladder! Let's
get outta here!"
At
the top they found themselves in yet another cave, this one with a
natural exit leading up and at an angle from where they stood. "We
can climb through that easy," said Bobo.
"Yes,
you can," said Jon from below. It should only take a few
minutes."
"Who--hey,
what's that?" Bobo asked. "Sounds like a dang flood's
fixing to come through here!"
"Remember
those big bats I told you about? The ones that eat meat? They just
woke up, and they're hungry. By the way, they like to use that tunnel
you're in to get topside." Jon slammed the hatch against the
sound of screaming morons mixed with that of flapping leathery
wings.
"Part
of this nutritious breakfast," he mused. "After all, I did
promise to make them an intimate part of our civilization." Jon
had always been a man of his word.
Copyright
©2011 Kerry Lee Anderson
All Rights Reserved
