Satan's Gambit by Conti Gene;

Author:Conti, Gene;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: World Ahead Press
Published: 2017-05-15T17:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FORTY

BOMBARDIER BEETLE

I walked on the grass to the edge of the rosé colored paving stones that covered the quadrangle. I could still hear Fred, as he was only about thirty feet from me. I could also see the marble statue of Mary somewhat down a ways on my left at the edge of the quadrangle. But something was going on, in the center, around the flagpole. Someone was setting up some speakers on extension poles with tripod bases. The small circular wall, which enclosed the garden at the base of the flagpole, was considered to be a free speech zone. On occasion there were placards or signs. One could frequently find students gathered there with someone standing on the wall, using it as their soapbox to present their discourse on whatever topic suited them. This led to lively and, at times, volatile exchanges. But this was definitely different; more of a professional style setup.

I walked along the edge of the quadrangle, passing the statue of Mary until I could see one of the student parking lots through the trees on my left. There was a large van with the logo of one of the big three local affiliate networks on it, complete with satellite dish and antennas. Something was up.

These guys were from Harrisonburg, about sixty miles down I-81 from Front Royal. The Harrisonburg market encompassed us on their northern periphery. Father called them the Atheist, Communist, and Numbnuts Broadcasting Corporations.

What are they doing here today? I thought. I noticed Fred was approaching me.

“Hey man, you guys finished up?” I asked Fred, as we continued to walk along the quadrangle’s perimeter.

“Yeah, and you’ve got some very sharp cookies in your class. They are really thinking things through, Doc. I see that you already covered irreducible complexity with the mousetrap - they were all over that.”

“Anything new I should know about that you already went over with them?” I asked.

“We covered the bombardier beetle, the woodpecker, and the giraffe,” Fred explained. “They were laughing like hyenas over the bombardier beetle.”

“I was wondering what was going on with you guys. I could hear the group breaking up all the way from here.”

“Well, when challenged to describe how an insect with two ‘tanks’ filled with explosive gases and twin synchronous rotating machine guns could evolve slowly over eons of time without blowing itself up each step of the way, they just couldn’t contain themselves.”

“That student of yours, Jim, the V-8 guy.” Fred began.

“Yes?” I asked, wondering what antics Jim had been up to.

“He kept looking around for Mrs. Bombardier beetle to see if she hadn’t blown herself up yet, so they could mate.”

“Yes, that’s Jim alright,” I said lightly shaking my head.

“Oh, and that leggy brunette who was sitting in front of me?”

“Yes, Claudia,” I answered in a half apologetic tone.

“She asked me what my wife does.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Oh, I coolly mentioned that she likes to file her nails down to a point. She must have bounced back a foot and then jumped up looking around, even up into the trees.

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