Wall said.
“Still, the grunting of primitives,” Nokz’z said. “I have captured you, behind my lines, in our uniforms. Still, I have treated you fairly and with respect. Yet you insult me. If I was in your position, I would be doing everything I could to cooperate with my captors, not to abuse them.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Let’s swap positions and find out,” Barnard said.
Nokz’z laughed. “Ah, this one has a sense of humour!” He walked in front of her. “The war is not over. But it soon will be. Let me tell you what is going to happen. The skies are clear. It is the eye of the storm. But it will not last long and when it is over, my tanks will continue their advance. We cannot be seen, nor detected. Your army will have no warning. Once we establish a beachhead in Alaska, we will set up landing strips and start flying in equipment and supplies. What will happen in America is what has already happened in Europe and Asia. Or do you still think there is some miracle awaiting your species?”
“I think the real question is whether we pack you Pukes up in rocket ships and send you back where you came from, or make Australia into a giant prison,” Price said.
Nokz’z smiled again. “Bravado. It is such a delightful human trait. We Bzadians don’t have it, did you know that? I shall miss it. In the meantime, make yourselves as comfortable as you can. As soon as the storm returns, we will bring up transporters to take you to our base at Chukchi. From there it will be a quick plane trip to New Bzadia.” He paused, thinking. “Do you have any idea how beautiful this planet of yours is? On my planet people would travel thousands of miles to see a glimpse of blue water, or a patch of green forest. Most of our water was underground. Your planet has it in abundance, yet you do not appreciate it. It really is a wonderful world and, when the war is over, I will spend my time travelling it, drinking in its beauty.”
“Hard to do that if you’re dead,” The Tsar said.
Nokz’z just smiled.
“We know what we’ve got,” Price said. “And we’re not going to let you take it away from us.”
“You are wrong on both counts,” Nokz’z said. “If you really did appreciate this beautiful planet, you wouldn’t treat it the way you have.”
“That’s bull,” The Tsar said.
“You call us the invaders,” Nokz’z said. “But it is you humans who are the invaders. On Bzadia we lived in harmony with the other creatures of our world. What do you humans do? You kill, cook and eat them. You wipe out entire species. And those you don’t eat, you fence off into game parks and reserves. Cramming them into smaller and smaller areas. If insects inconvenience you, you spray them with poison. You are monsters, bullies, terrorising your own world, but you have finally met your match.”
“Ignore him,” Price said. “He’s crazy. You can’t reason with a crazy person.”
“That, my young friend, is the one thing we both agree on,” Nokz’z said.
After some quiet discussion with the squad leader, Nokz’z and the Vaza slipped down the hatch and away.
“There’s something not quite right with that dude,” Wall said. He spoke in English in a low voice so that the soldiers on the other side of the tank could not hear him.
“That is an understatement,” Barnard said. “Don’t you know who that was?”
“Nope,” Price said.
“Colonel Nokz’z. The Butcher of Jakarta,” Barnard said.
“The Indonesian massacre?” Wall asked.
“He was a major back then,” Barnard said.
“That’s the same guy?” Wall asked.
“I think so,” Barnard said.
“You really think Monster will be back to kick his ass?” The Tsar asked.
Price was silent.
“Monster’s not coming back,” Wall said. “Neither’s Emile.”
“Until we see the bodies, there’s always hope,” Price said.
“You’re dreaming,” Wall said. “Nokz’z is right. They didn’t have a chance out there.”
“Shut up,
“Still, the grunting of primitives,” Nokz’z said. “I have captured you, behind my lines, in our uniforms. Still, I have treated you fairly and with respect. Yet you insult me. If I was in your position, I would be doing everything I could to cooperate with my captors, not to abuse them.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Let’s swap positions and find out,” Barnard said.
Nokz’z laughed. “Ah, this one has a sense of humour!” He walked in front of her. “The war is not over. But it soon will be. Let me tell you what is going to happen. The skies are clear. It is the eye of the storm. But it will not last long and when it is over, my tanks will continue their advance. We cannot be seen, nor detected. Your army will have no warning. Once we establish a beachhead in Alaska, we will set up landing strips and start flying in equipment and supplies. What will happen in America is what has already happened in Europe and Asia. Or do you still think there is some miracle awaiting your species?”
“I think the real question is whether we pack you Pukes up in rocket ships and send you back where you came from, or make Australia into a giant prison,” Price said.
Nokz’z smiled again. “Bravado. It is such a delightful human trait. We Bzadians don’t have it, did you know that? I shall miss it. In the meantime, make yourselves as comfortable as you can. As soon as the storm returns, we will bring up transporters to take you to our base at Chukchi. From there it will be a quick plane trip to New Bzadia.” He paused, thinking. “Do you have any idea how beautiful this planet of yours is? On my planet people would travel thousands of miles to see a glimpse of blue water, or a patch of green forest. Most of our water was underground. Your planet has it in abundance, yet you do not appreciate it. It really is a wonderful world and, when the war is over, I will spend my time travelling it, drinking in its beauty.”
“Hard to do that if you’re dead,” The Tsar said.
Nokz’z just smiled.
“We know what we’ve got,” Price said. “And we’re not going to let you take it away from us.”
“You are wrong on both counts,” Nokz’z said. “If you really did appreciate this beautiful planet, you wouldn’t treat it the way you have.”
“That’s bull,” The Tsar said.
“You call us the invaders,” Nokz’z said. “But it is you humans who are the invaders. On Bzadia we lived in harmony with the other creatures of our world. What do you humans do? You kill, cook and eat them. You wipe out entire species. And those you don’t eat, you fence off into game parks and reserves. Cramming them into smaller and smaller areas. If insects inconvenience you, you spray them with poison. You are monsters, bullies, terrorising your own world, but you have finally met your match.”
“Ignore him,” Price said. “He’s crazy. You can’t reason with a crazy person.”
“That, my young friend, is the one thing we both agree on,” Nokz’z said.
After some quiet discussion with the squad leader, Nokz’z and the Vaza slipped down the hatch and away.
“There’s something not quite right with that dude,” Wall said. He spoke in English in a low voice so that the soldiers on the other side of the tank could not hear him.
“That is an understatement,” Barnard said. “Don’t you know who that was?”
“Nope,” Price said.
“Colonel Nokz’z. The Butcher of Jakarta,” Barnard said.
“The Indonesian massacre?” Wall asked.
“He was a major back then,” Barnard said.
“That’s the same guy?” Wall asked.
“I think so,” Barnard said.
“You really think Monster will be back to kick his ass?” The Tsar asked.
Price was silent.
“Monster’s not coming back,” Wall said. “Neither’s Emile.”
“Until we see the bodies, there’s always hope,” Price said.
“You’re dreaming,” Wall said. “Nokz’z is right. They didn’t have a chance out there.”
“Shut up,
Similar Books
