Carnifex

29/7/469 AC, The Base, Kashmir Tribal Trust Lands

"But what the hell is this damned thing for?" Bashir asked plaintively of no one in particular. The work crew had hit a particularly tough section of rock. No one thought his question particularly out of place.

"You don't know?"

"No, I don't know," he answered, resting on the sledge hammer he'd been using to drive wedges into the stone. "And I don't suppose I need to. But this shit is tough!"

"Well," his comrade began, conspiratorially, "I heard that the chief of the Old Earth infidels is coming for a visit. All very hush-hush, mind you? This cave is to hide his shuttle . . . the little ship that usually carries him between the UE Peace Fleet and their base on Atlantis Island . . . from prying eyes." The comrade's eyes went up and he made a sign as if to ward off either the Old Earthers or the Columbian's spies in the sky.

"All this trouble for one Old Earth infidel? Makes no sense," was Bashir's judgment.

"Nor to me, brother. Perhaps Mustafa thinks to wheedle some help. Allah knows, we could use it."

"Well, at least that explains why we have to dig this thing. But what's the hurry?"

"I heard from my cousin who works in headquarters that it's set for two weeks from today."

* * *

"Two weeks? Two fucking more weeks in this hole!" muttered Sevilla. "Shit!"

"Never mind, Sergeant," the signifer said. "Just advise headquarters. Meanwhile, I'm going to take Somoza out tonight after the moon goes down and have a look around."

"Bad, bad idea, sir."