The Old Man did not say a word. He sort of gaped at Trevor like a lost puppy. That filled Trevor with another idea. A very unsettling one.

“Of course,” Trevor paced the aisle as he went on. “Let me guess, they aren’t talking to you anymore. How would you put it? Hmmm… Okay, let’s try this: they ain’t takin’ your calls n’more, are they? This is the Duass, we’re not home right now please leave a message and we’ll get back to you. Beeeepp.”

“Don’t push Trev. You don’t know-”

Outside the base’s air raid siren churned to life again. The screaming klaxon caused a pause in the conversation and it also gave Trevor another surge of anger.

He continued with a fierce edge in his voice, “You know why they won’t talk to you anymore? Because they don’t mind you losing, that’s why. So what if Voggoth is doing more than he’s supposed to on this planet. Why, I’ll bet they don’t even know what he’s doing here-they don’t want to know. They refuse to look. Deny it, even, like people who hear someone screaming for help but don’t want to be involved so they block it out. You’re being blocked out, Old Man.”

“Stop it, now.”

“As long as it’s not them, it’s all good. Why I’ll bet he’s whispered in their ear something like, ‘the humans have been breakin’ the rules so I’ll just even the odds a bit’ or ‘hey, Mr. Hivvan, just turn the other way while I do this and I promise to help you out on your world, too.’ That leaves you out in the cold, Old Man. It’d be funny, but I’m stuck in the freezer with you.”

The sound of bombs thudding to the ground echoed from the air field and in through the broken windows of the empty building. A shard of glass fell and shattered on the dirty floor.