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"I'm just saying the Dispatcher knows him, is all."
"Where can I find the Dispatcher?" Price asked. "Is it still Dalian?"
Zak took a drink from a water bottle and passed it back. "Sure is. He's east. Soon as we've eaten we're moving on fast."
"Will you let us ride tail? Three human, two Grog. Mule in tow."
"You might be riding into trouble," Zak said. "One of our pods got jumped. The Dispatcher sent out a call."
"Our guns will secure the Bulletproof, as long as we enjoy the BulletprooPs hospitality," Price said. "You can count us on your side of the worm."
The man behind Zak pointed with a fingerless-gloved hand. "You know the words, but that don't mean much to me."
"He says he wants business with the Dispatcher, that's good enough for me," Zak said. "You can ride tail. Enjoy the music back there."
"Thank you, high rider," Price said. He touched Valentine and they turned.
"What did we just agree to?" Valentine asked.
"When you ride with the Bulletproof-any of the legworm tribes, really-you enjoy their hospitality. But you're expected to stand with them in any kind of a confrontation."
"You mean fight."
"Don't worry. When two tribes get into a feud they each line up on either side of an open field. There's a sporting match like lacrosse only with two contestants; all you have to do is cheer."
"What kind of feud?"
"Could be anything. Usually it's feeding ground. One group allegedly goes in another's area. It's hazy at best. About a third of Kentucky's divided up between the tribes. If they're caught, it's called an arrest but it boils down to being taken hostage. So they hold a contest. If the 'intruder' side wins, the hostages and their worms are released. If the 'intruded' side wins, a ransom and restitution are paid."
"Sounds rather civilized," Valentine said.
"Again, except for yelling, you won't have to do much."
Zac, Gibson-the man behind Zak-and Cookie gave them a quick legworm riding lesson, and issued them each a cargo hook and a climbing goad.
The cargo hook resembled a pirate's replacement hand, hanging from a chain whose links were wide enough for the attachment of lines. They used a pair to attach a long lead to the mule. The goad resembled a mountaineer's pickstaff, with a crowbarlike digger at one end and a long spike at the other. To mount the legworm, you plunged your goad into one of the many thick patches of dead skin-the worm's skin reminded Valentine of fiberglass insulation-and lifted yourself up to a height where a buddy could pull you the rest of the way up. Under no circumstances were you to use one of the longish whisker spikes projecting here and there from newer patches of skin in cracks between the dead material.
"They'll twist good if you grab a whisker," Cookie explained.
"Do they ever roll?" Valentine asked, though he knew the answer.
"Only if they're hurt," Zak said. "You abandon ship quick if that happens."
Bee went first. She plunged her goad hook up high, almost at the top of the worm thanks to her reach, then swung up on pure arm muscle. She accepted the rifles, then helped Price up, who then aided Valentine and Duvalier in their climbs. Ahn-Kha eschewed his goad; he stuck the implement between his teeth and jumped up, grabbing great handfuls of spongy skin, and clambered up with his toes.
"That's how the Grey Ones in the west mount," Ahn-Kha said. He attached his wood-framed pack, plunged the chained cargo hook into the creature's back, then casually gripped the chain with his long toes. Only the Grogs could sit astride the worm's broad back; the humans rode in a leaning sidesaddle fashion.
"Just like you're on a flying carpet," Cookie said. He looked at the strangers' faces. "None of you have heard of a flying carpet? Ignorants!"
"Everybody set?" Zak called back. His head was visible over the cargo netting holding down the trio's supplies.
"All-top and rigged," Price called.
"A lot of us don't say that anymore," Gibson said. "We just say 'yeah.' Try it, tender-thighs."
Zak reached back with a pole capped by something like an oversized legworm goad with a point on the end and stuck the hook down between the legs. That part of the legworm, right under Gibson, gave a little rise and they started ahead.
"You can stop bellyaching that people who aren't one of us aren't one of us anytime, Gib," Zak said, too quietly for anyone but Valentine to hear.
