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pearl, shivering softly with rippling lights.
    "WOW!"
    He leads the boys
into a sex pod and satisfies them both three times. In the course of
this encounter he learns a great deal about conditions on Planet
Earth. The B.B.s are completely possessed by a Venusian virus. The
whole Christian religion, Catholic and Protestant, is a Venusian
ploy.
    Later he addresses
the fifteen cadets. To put them at ease he takes the form of Old
Sarge:
    "All right, you
jokers, you're here to learn and learn fast. Your planet is riddled
by the walking dead taken over by a Venusian virus. I will show you
how to recognize these virus-controlled bodies. Many of them are
Christians. In fact Christianity is the most virulent spiritual
poison ever administered to a disaster-prone planet."
    "You mean,
Sarge, that most of the trouble on Earth is caused by Venusians in
human bodies?"
    "Now you're
getting smart."
    "Wouldn't it be
a good idea to kill these mothers?"
    "Now you're
getting smarter. You are here to learn the theory and practice of
Shiticide. Boys will be organized into Shit Slaughter troops ... the
S.S., with two phosphorescent spitting cobras at their lapels...
    "Slaughter
the shits of the world. They poison the air you breathe. "
    "But sir,
aren't the B.B.s and their equivalents in other countries, the
bigoted ignorant basically frightened middle class, just dupes
and lackeys of the very rich and the politicians, exploited for votes
and labor and the consumption of consumer goods while they also serve
as convenient guard dogs to protect the status that benefits the
very rich?"
    "Yes, but they
are still vectors, carriers of the virus. How do you control
yellow fever? You kill the mosquitoes first, right? Now some vectors
are more potent than others. Look at Jesus Christ for chris-sakes. As
an integral part of the Shiticide Program master vectors will be
pinpointed and assassinated...You gentlemen and the trainees who
follow you are chosen to be the elite, the masterminds of the
glorious S.S."

    And Kim composed a
marching song for the Johnsons:

    Wenn
scheissen Blut von Messer spritz
    Denn
geht schon alles gut
    (When
shit blood spurts from the knife
    Then
everything is good)

    Quite stirring, he
thought...
    And the Song of the
Vagabonds could be adapted.

    Sons
of toil and danger
    will
serve you a stranger?
    Sons
of shame and sorrow
    will
you cheer tomorrow?

    Kim stands
resplendent in his Shit Slaughter uniform with a cobra S.S. on each
lapel, they glow in the dark. Johnsons to the sky, all in S.S.
uniform. They roar out the Johnson marching song.
    Kim raises his hand
and silence falls like a thunderclap:
    "We're not
fighting for a scrap of sharecropper immortality with the strings
hanging off it like Mafioso spaghetti. We want the whole tamale. The
Johnsons are taking over the Western Lands. We built it with our
brains and our hands. We paid for it with our blood and our lives.
It's ours and we're going to take it.
    "And we are not
applying in triplicate to the Immortality Control Board. Anybody gets
in our way we will get our communal back against a rock or a
tree and fight the way a raccoon will fight a fucking dog."

    Kim sees himself as
the legendary raccoon who killed a whole pack of dogs before he
succumbed to his wounds...The raw red reek of deadly combat ... his
eyes light up inside with green fire, the hairs on his back stand up
and crackle ... his claws lash out with the
speed of a striking snake to rip out an eye, tear off a screaming
muzzle...A dog sinks its teeth into his flank. He rolls on his back,
whimpering piteously...Two inexperienced young dogs rush forward
sincerely. You know the type ... volunteers ... the
old coon tears their steaming guts out with his hind claws and makes
a break for the river. Here he takes out three more dogs, sitting on
their backs and clawing their eyes out. He takes time to eat one eye
with his dainty paw as the drowning dog sinks out from under him. He
is losing blood. He swims for shore and