With the conclave adjourned, everyone got busy implementing their own portions of the Plan. Nuts and Guts labored alongside Katske to set in motion the great sugarfrost harvest. Artisans aboard the Gamble set to work on slurry systems that would convert that carbo-treasure into steaks and shakes and blood… and brains. Sully and Moulder, along with Ping, Lorg and Coalshack, would soon hitch a shuttle ride back to town and start the hardest task, explaining this grand plan in such a way as to convince local citizens and opinion makers to cooperate with aliens.

Which left four of us at the big round table. Captain Ohm and me. Plus Earl Dragonlord and the sphinx-riding Spertin, the latter of whom taunted us with the doomed futility of our efforts.

“If you leave the computer alone, it will automatically start cranking up the toxin levels to critical, and things will get terminally bloody all across this world! If – on the other hand – you destroy it, the Leininger factor will stop being issued at all. You’ll murder every caste except the boring Standards and condemn them to their absurdly short lifespans.

“Everything that’s unique about them will vanish.”

Ohm shook his head.

“We could bypass your machine. Trace the command lines, find the gas generators in the cities and figure out how to control it all ourselves.”

“And how long will that take? Look at your crew, Captain. Most of them are bone-weary. You’ll have a mutiny on your hands!”

Ohm knew all this, of course, along with the other reason for haste. So long as the Clever Gamble was out here all alone, there remained a real possibility that the master conspirators back on Sperta might learn of their setback here, and send a force too great for one ship to handle.

Our captain responded angrily.

“Well you two won’t see any of that. As soon as we get back, you’ll be put on trial by the FAW High Court. And this Spertin scheme against the people of Planet Squid—”

“Cal’mari!” they both shouted.

“—will hurt your masters badly, when it’s revealed to all the non-aligned civilizations what you did here.”

“Oh yeah? Well what’ll the non-aligns think of you, when it’s revealed that you forced us into that thing against our will!”

His hand shook at he pointed at the great, looming slurry tube. Clearly, for some unfathomable reason, any prospect of being dissolved into component cells and shipped into space with the consistency of a banana malted daiquiri terrified the fellow.

That’s when Earl Dragonlord spoke for the first time, since again putting his fangs away. None of the flamboyant Nomort arrogance was in his voice. And yet, it carried a silky tone of persuasion.

“Perhaps, some kind of a deal might be in the offing?”

Although clearly this had been Ohm’s aim all along, he now arched one eyebrow, theatrically skeptical.