The Human Division 0.5 - After the Coup Read Free

Korba can regenerate lost limbs and some organs, eventually. They don’t see losing one as a huge problem.”
    “I thought you said there were rules, Hart,” Harry said.
    “My mistake,” Schmidt said.
    “You and I are going to have a talk after all of this is done,” Harry said.
    Schmidt didn’t answer this because the judge had started speaking again. “The judge wants to know if you have a second. If you don’t have one he will be happy to provide you one.”
    “Do I have a second?” Harry said.
    “I didn’t know you needed one,” Schmidt said.
    “Hart, please make an effort to be useful to me,” Harry asked.
    “Well, I’m translating,” Schmidt said.
    “I only have your word for that,” Harry said. “Tell the judge that you’re my second.”
    “What? Harry, I can’t,” Schmidt said. “I’m supposed to be sitting with the Ambassador.”
    “And I’m supposed to be in a bunk on the Clarke reading the first part of The Brothers Karamazov ,” Harry said. “Clearly this is a disappointing day for both of us. Suck it up, Hart. Tell him.”
    Schmidt told him; the judge started speaking at length to Schmidt, chest and neck plates shifting as he did so. Harry glanced back over to the seating area provided the Colonial Union diplomats and Clarke crew, who shifted in their rows. The stands were half-sized for humans; they sat with their knees bunched into their chests like parents at a pre-school open house. They didn’t look in the least bit comfortable.
    Good , thought Harry.
    The judge stopped speaking, turned toward Harry, and did something with his scales that caused a wave-like ripple to go around his head. Harry shuddered involuntarily; the judge seemed to take that as a response. He left.
    “We’re going to start in just a minute,” Schmidt said. “Now might be a good time for you to strip.”
    Harry set down his bongka and took off his jacket. “I don’t suppose you’re going to strip,” he said. “Being my second and all.”
    “The judge didn’t say anything about it in the job description,” Schmidt said. He took the jacket from Harry.
    “What is your job description?” Harry asked.
    “I’m supposed to research your opponent and give you tips on how to beat him,” Schmidt said.
    “What do you know about my opponent?” Harry asked. He was out of his shirt and was slipping off his trousers.
    “My guess is that he will be short,” Schmidt said.
    “How do I beat him?” Harry said. He slipped off his shoes and let his toes test the spongy flooring.
    “You’re not supposed to beat him,” Schmidt said. “You’re supposed to tie and then take a fall.”
    Harry grunted and handed Schmidt his pants, socks and shoes. “Am I correct in assuming that there are several species of legume that would do a better job being my second than you, Hart?”
    “Sorry, Harry,” Schmidt said. “I’m flying by the seat of my pants here.”
    “And my pants,” Harry said.
    “I guess that’s true,” Schmidt said. He looked at the nude Harry and counted the number of apparel he was holding. “Where’s your underwear?” he asked.
    “Today was laundry day,” Harry said.
    “You went commando to a diplomatic function?” Schmidt asked. The horror in his voice was unmistakable.
    “Yes, Hart, I went commando to a diplomatic function,” Harry said, and then motioned to his body. “And now, as you can see, I’m going Spartan so a midget can whack me with a stick.” He bent and picked up his Bongka. “Honestly, Hart. Help me out here. Focus a little.”
    “All right,” Hart said, and glanced at the pile of clothes he was holding. “Let me just put these somewhere.” He started off toward the human seating area.
    As Hart did this, three Korba approached Harry. One was the judge from earlier. Another Korban was carrying his own bongka, proportional to his own height; Harry’s opponent. The third was a step behind Harry’s opponent; Harry guessed it was the other second.
    The