The Green Brain by Frank Herbert Page B

your men there,” she said. “D’you expect us to believe that?”

    â€œIt’s of no importance to me what you believe,” Joao said. “How’d you get here?”
    â€œWe fought our way in here from the truck using caramuru cold-fire spray,” said the blond man. “That stalled them a bit. We dragged along what supplies we could, dug a trench around our perimeter, poured in the couroq powder, added the jell and topped it off with all our copahu oil … and here we sat.”
    â€œHow many of you?” Joao asked.
    â€œThere were fourteen of us in the truck,” Rhin said. She stared at Joao, studying him. His manner, his questions—everything consistent with innocence. She tried to reason from this assumption, but her mind bogged down. She wasn’t thinking clearly and knew it. Ever since the first attack; there’ d been something, a drug very likely, in the stings of the insects that had got through the caramuru. But her lab wasn’t equipped to determine what the drug was.
    Joao rubbed the back of his neck where the insect stings were beginning to burn. He glanced around at his men, assessing their condition and equipment, counted four sprayrifles, saw that the men carried spare charge cylinders on slings around their necks.
    And there was his truck pod safe inside the perimeter. The spray they’d poured into it probably had played hob with the control circuits, though. But there still remained the big truck out in the savannah.
    â€œWe’d better try to fight our way out to the truck,” he said.
    â€œYour truck?” Rhin asked. She looked out to the savannah. “I think it’s been too late for that since a few seconds after it landed, bandeirante.” She laughed, and the hysteria was close to the surface. “I think in a day or so there’ll be a few less traitors. You’re caught in your own trap.”

    Joao whirled to stare at the Irmandade airtruck. It was beginning to tip crazily over onto its left side. “Padre!” he barked. “Tommy! Vince! Get …” He broke off as the truck sagged over even farther.
    â€œIt’s only fair to warn you,” Rhin said, “to stay away from the edge of the ditch unless you first spray the opposite side. They can shoot that acid stream at least fifteen meters … and as you can see”—she nodded toward the airtruck—“the acid eats metal and even plastic.”
    â€œYou’re insane,” Joao said. “Why didn’t you warn us immediately? We could’ve …”
    â€œWarn you?”
    Her blond companion said, “Dr. Kelly, perhaps we’d …”
    â€œBe quiet, Hogar,” she said. She glared at the man. “Isn’t it time you looked in on Doctor Chen-Lhu?”
    â€œTravis? Is he here?” Joao asked.
    â€œHe arrived yesterday with one companion, since deceased,” she said. “They were searching for us. Unluckily, they found us. Dr. Chen-Lhu probably will not live through this night.” She glared at her Nordic companion. “Hogar!”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” the man said. He shrugged, headed for the tents.
    â€œWe lost eight men to your playmates, bandeirante,” Rhin said. She looked at the small group of Irmandades. “Our lives are little enough to pay now for the extinction of eight of you … traitors!”
    â€œYou are insane,” Joao said, and he felt the beginnings of a crazy anger in himself. Chen-Lhu here … dying? That could wait. First there was work to do.
    â€œStop playing innocent, bandeirante,” Rhin said. “We’ve seen your companions out there. We’ve seen the new playmates you bred … and we understand that
you were too greedy; your game has gotten out of hand.”
    â€œYou’ve not seen my Irmaos doing these things,” Joao said. He looked at Thome. “Tommy, keep an eye on these insane ones.