Bugkilla 48

"Nice job," I told Johnny, and Johnny just stared at the sky.

###

We got to the perimeter by noon and broke camp. There were an even dozen of us, no losses, and we were in a good mood, jostling and joking with each other as we readied the tubes. Johnny usually sank himself first thing, so I could tell by the way he was watching people set up that he was in a weird mood. When you work with people in blacksuits all the time, you learn body language.

"This ain't so bad," he said, the voicebox further neutralizing Johnny's already toneless speech.

"This dust rock? Hell man, you got funny tastes. My readings tell me that I'm gonna have to sink a klick more than usually cause of radiation and heat levels." I locked the hole into place and thumped it with my open hand. There was a slight tremor as the hole sunk its shaft deep into the planet.

"Naw, I mean the Previous Occupants. They're a lot easier to take than the last bunch." The last bunch had been a race of simian bipeds, passive and uncannily like children. They carried around tiny bears that appeared to be pets, but these actually were the young.

And since they were primitive technologically, they were spread out and had to be evicted by hand. It wasn't a pleasant thing, scraping bloody fur off your boots at the end of a day, but then, there are few pleasant things about this job other than the pay.

"I like this much better," Johnny said, but there was something in his voice that made me think he was trying to convince himself. Not that he was wrong -- this job was way better. This planet's PO's were bugs, huge nasty, highly intelligent critters that were approaching space travel just a little too late. We needed the planet now, in fact there were barges of new residents already in orbit. Anyway, it turns out that they eat their old folk, so it makes good copy for the broadcasts -- and if our patrol gets good ratings, then we all get a nice bonus.

Thinking about that, I hammed it up for the recordings. "Yeah. Looking forward to another good day of bug blastin' tomorrow!"

Johnny didn't say anything, just thumped his hole.

"See ya on the inside," I said, and slipped into my shaft.

###

They started using the holes for tactical reasons -- even our people would have problems getting at someone buried a kilometre deep, especially since it's only for the four hour downtime that us blacksuits need.

Originally they had problems with them, sensory blackouts coupled with being buried alive caused some flipouts. But a simple VR addition to the blacksuit means that nowadays, I can go home to a delicious meal with my wife on Earth.

I popped out of the tube and into my moving easy chair, which sped along through the bright and cheery recreation of my home. Through the living room, where little Elroy plays with his dog Astro....

"Dad!"

...Through the study, where Judy does her homework. "Hi Daddy!"

...And into the dining room, where it comes to rest at the head of the table. My wife Jane, carrying a golden platter, floats in from the kitchen. I leans over to kiss her apple cheek as she places the dish in front of me.

"Hello darling," she says, smiling as she removes the lid. A roast suckling pig, glazed and apple stuffed, looks back.

"Looks great," I murmur, and she calls the kids. "It's too bad I can't serve some of the bug meat I fried today, though," I say, this time for Elroy's benefit

Judy wrinkles her nose and Jane smiles tolerantly. Elroy beams. "I'd have some, Dad!"

"I'll bet you would."

###

The meal was delicious -- I have it timed so my blacksuit nutrients dissolve into my bloodstream simultaneously, so that if I don't exactly "eat" with my family, I do "take sustenance" with them.

I found my mind wandering back to Johnny, and his uneasy ways. "Would you mind, Jane, if I had a friend over? I know it's usually our time together, but he seems quite troubled."

She saw the worried lines in my face, and responded sympathetically. "Of course not, dear. Is it someone from work?"

I nodded and walked over to the vidphone, and established a connection with The Landlords, a VR pub where active blacksuits from various planets and patrols would meet during downtime.

I could see it was as raucous as always, and felt Jane's eyes scan the scene as I asked the bartender if Johnny had been by. "Nope. Haven't seen him in a few cycles, actually. Heard he's deep into the white stuff."

I thanked him and disconnected.

"That's the quiet little place where you discuss work?" Jane said archly. her lips smiling.

I shrugged, trying to get a more direct line to Johnny himself. Suddenly I was connected, the screen was bright white and the only blemish was a tiny, rotating figure in the centre of it all. It was Johnny, naked and foetal.

Jane tutted disapprovingly. "Johnny," I said sharply. I couldn't see his face from this distance but he had stopped rotating. "Jane and I were hoping you'd join us for dessert." I mostly succeeded in keeping a critical edge off of my voice.

"It's peach cobbler," Jane said cheerfully.

"All right," Johnny said, his tired voice sounding surprisingly close given the tiny figure on the screen.

I nodded and snapped off the vidscreen. I looked back, and Jane's eyes were troubled and distant. "He's just got the Mopup Blues," I said. "Little bit of companionship will do him a world of good."

I heard the pfft of a visitor entering the environment. Another easy chair, same as mine but with a lower back, would now be propelling Johnny through the house.

I popped off into the kitchen to grab the cobbler. Naturally, Jane had already punched in the correct code, so I just pressed the START button -- even I can do that -- and leaned back to wait.

It dinged after a few seconds, and as I took it out I thought it odd that Elroy or Judy hadn't called out to Johnny as he went by. It was the I heard the crash.

Peach cobbler in hand, I burst out into the living room. Slumped on the chair was Johnny -- in full blacksuit, gleaming and anonymous and with an aura of death.

"Dress visitor appropriate to environment," I muttered quickly and angrily. Johnny became clothed in a pale blue bubblesuit with an unflatteringly large collar. I was glad.

I noticed by her half-translucent state that Jane had made herself intangible. She pulled herself together and started picking up the pieces of the plate she had dropped.

"I-I'm sorry Jane. I don't really know why I did that," He hung his his tousled blond head.

"It's rude, is what it is!" Jane said, drawing herself up to full height. "We work to make this place nice, and we don't expect you to barge in here dressed like that any more -- any more than we would expect you to come here dressed as you were -- or weren't -- on the vidphone!"

Jane stormed into the kitchen. I placed the cobbler on the table and fixed him with a stare. I had nothing to add.

She came back, having put her apron away. Her composure was perfect. What a gal!

Johnny came and sat with us and we ate the cobbler in silence. "Wow, this is good," enthused Johnny between mouthfuls.

Jane smiled a little and said, "You could meet someone who had cobbler waiting for you when you got home, Johnny. Instead of using that awful stasis program. Night after night."

"A man's environment is his own," said Johnny, a little defensively. I wondered if we should push it, but given the eye contact he was making -- and the fact that he had made himself available for vidphone calls -- I felt like he was reaching out.

"A man's home is his castle, is how that phrase used to go," I said, signalling Rhoda for a cigar. She trundled out of her access panel, a boxy robot in a maid's uniform. "And if you can make it a castle, why wouldn't you?" I took the cigars and offered one to Johnny.

"No thanks."

I shrugged and cut the end off, placing it on the tray and taking the match.

"It's fine for you, George, I mean this place is really nicely done up," Johnny said, waving his hand around, "You've really achieved the retro-cartoon-- retro--"

"Retro-futurist cartoonism," Jane helped.

"Yeah, but I mean I don't have -- I just don't have the mindset to work on assembling something like this when I've been out all day --" he floundered for words, and despair surfaced on his face like a rising tide.

"It's the Kadarra job, isn't it," I said. "Look, you've been abstracted as far as is possible. The Rigger position is as safe and easy --"

"I'm not concerned with safe and easy," spitting the words out, a little fire coming into his eyes. "I just can't get into the -- Look, today, when that ship went up, the one I rigged?"

I nodded, remembering.

"Well, all I could smell was burning fur."

"What the hell do these goddamned bugs have to do with the Kadarrians? And what do you mean, smell? Did you set your suit to sendthrough?" Jane was a little taken aback by my ire but she knew it was necessary.

"No. I-- I had a hallucination. I can't get the," and he broke down and this point, "the crying babies out of my head."

Jane looked at me. Johnny was worse than I thought.

"The Kadarrians were not crying babies." I made each point firmly and, I felt, reasonably calmly, and waited for his nod. "They were aliens with a slight resemblance to humanoid children." Nod. Pause. "We had to make way for the next barge, or else the millions aboard would die." Nod. Pause. "Cohabitation and immigration are impossible." Pause. No nod.

"It's impossible, Johnny. Cohabitation inevitably leads to civil unrest. And exile's children always feel a need to 'reclaim' their native planet. In both cases, a bloody protracted war." I hoped I was getting through to him. His eyes showed no sign. "Do you want to condemn your children's children to death? This is not the most beautiful way, but it is the best way." The last was a quote from our trainer.

"You're right. I know you're right." He smiled and let out a small laugh. "My mind's been going all over the place lately." I scraped my match to life. I had been holding it all the while.

"Aw, that's all right, Jawnny," Rosie, the robot maid said in a Brooklyn accent. "Everybody gets their circuits scrambled once in a while."

We all laughed. It was a moment.

"Well I for one am glad those Kaddarians are gone," said Jane, her voice getting hushed. "Ever since I found out that they --" she mentioned a sexually deviant practice they used in childrearing. "Now where did I hear that? Was it the Action vids?"

The Action vids were blacksuit recordings of evacuations, extremely popular and educational. "No, they never ended up airing those, unfortunately," Evacs of passive humanoids didn't have the drama, and usually generated more controversy than profit. "You must have been in the news beforehand."

"But it looks like your husband's going to be the next Bugkilla," Johnny said to Jane. "He's been cooking more than his fair share..."

Jane was excited. "Really?"

I savoured my cigar, letting the smoke fill my lungs. "Well, could be." I knew that there was only one other guy from the crew being recorded, so I figured I had at least a 50-50 chance of being Bugkilla 48 in the Exterminator series. "But don't go telling all your friends about it until we're sure," I admonished. Jane had a talent for gossiping.

"Well, the way you evacked that horde on the eastern sector today, I'd say you're a shoo in." Johnny seemed back to normal, his eyes shining as he remembered the scene. I was pretty great.

"Like I say, kid, just set the visor to heat-target only, max out the aggro stims, and let your cannon do the talking. Some hotshots play around with the stim settings, but they're set like that for a reason."

That reminded me about the crying babies nonsense. "Hey, you didn't have your visuals set to sendthrough, did you? On the Kaddarian job?"

His face fell a little on this reminder. "No."

"Well, how could you tell they were crying?"

"They -- their body language. They were heaving. And sort of clutching their little bears --"

"Their spawn."

"Yes, their young."

There was a pause, and the Jane burst out laughing.

"I'll bet they were --" Johnny looked a little bewildered, and Jane squeaked out, "Clutching, that is. Those sick animals."

I was caught mid-inhale and choked out staccato laughter that turned into a fit.

By the end of it, Jane had a tear leaking out of one eye. and Johnny was egging her on, making little clutching motions.

###

The next day it was back to the same old grind. I set myself to burp a little early, so I'd rack up some kills before the rest of the patrol were up. I was lucky -- there was a bunch of bugs scrounging around for us, and I burst to the surface guns-a-blazing. They knew what hit them, but only barely.

As soon as I finished firing, I was told I had a command message waiting.

The sexless voice informed me: "The duty Morale Maintenance has been added to your job description. This is a confidential duty and supersedes but does not replace your other duties. Your Authority Level is now: 1."

I was torn. It meant higher pay -- higher than I had ever received -- but still not as high as a starring role in Bugkilla 48. I hoped this wouldn't screw up my chances for stardom.

I had never had this duty before, but because it was randomly assigned once morale had dropped below a certain point, it was inevitable that I'd eventually get it.

And I already knew what my first action as Morale Maintenance had to be. Getting rid of the blacksuit with lowest morale would not only prevent him from infecting the others, but also raise the overall average instantly.

Locking him in his shaft was quietest, but would be noticed by the others since there wasn't time to get another blacksuit to the surface as a replacement.

So at 1600, when my team-mates exploded to the surface, I gave a friendly nod at Johnny as I set his shields to half of the recommended levels via my authority level.

When a strafing bugship lasered our team, Johnny exploded. I bellowed up at the sky, in what I hoped would come across anguish and rage through a voicebox intended for monotone:

"I'll make them pay, Johnny! I'll make them pay!"

That's what got me the part of Bugkilla 48. Audiences eat that stuff up. And they did pay -- enough to get Jane her fur coat, and the whole family a vacation on Mars.

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