Then, I went through all his files and put two and two together. You
know when I woke up on top of those crates in that warehouse, and I
overheard those guys talking about vegetables? Those weren’t crates
of vegetables. I passed out on top of megatons of nuclear weaponry!
I got bombed on a bunch of bombs!
“And there’s more: letters of correspondence between all sorts
of subversive groups around the world—even in your hometown Los
Angeles—that I managed to decode using this key I found, and lots of
other weird things, too. I think the fucking guy is a nitrous junkie!
He’s got tanks and tanks of the stuff and all these masks that he uses
to inhale it. And check out what else I found!” He pulled out a
substance that looked surprisingly like beef jerky.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Beef jerky.”
“So?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I just thought you might want a bite. I haven’t
had any of this stuff for a long time. He had a whole bag in his desk.”
“No thanks,” I said. “It sure doesn’t make him look very sincere
regarding his Vegetarian Resistance dogma though, does it?”
“I never thought of that! You’re right. What a hypocrite!” he
shook his head reproachfully.
“So, what are you going to do?” I said.
“Me? You mean we, Rippy. I can’t do this alone. That’s why
you’ve got to get initiated into the ashram. You’ve got to get on the
inside, too.”
“Jeezus. How exactly do you propose we save the planet from
destruction? Why don’t you just call the cops?”
“The Indian police? First off, do you think they’d believe anyone
who was hanging out in a place like this? Second, the Omniraja’s got
his hands in everyone’s pockets around here. Going to the police
would get you killed. Besides, there isn’t anything incriminating here
besides the paperwork—the nuclear bombs are already on their way
to key installation sites! And lastly…”
“This is your chance to be a big hero.”
“…it’s a lot more fun this way.”
“So what’s your plan, Rambo-tan?” I prodded.
He lowered his voice, and though his eyes were manic and
bloodshot, they didn’t waver when he finally, soberly announced,
“Jake, we have to kill him.”
BIG AMERICAN BREAKFAST
192
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