He patted her hand. "You can't please everybody, Isobel. Listen, something's got to be done about this king-size mob of camp followers we've got. Did you know Common Europe sent in a delegation this morning?"
"Delegation? Common Europe—?"
"Yeah. Haven't had time to discuss it with you. They found us just before we raised camp. Evidently, the British Commonwealth and possibly the Soviet Complex—some Chinese, I think—are also trying to locate us. Half of these people are without their own equipment and supplies, but that's not what worries me right now. We used to be able to camouflage our headquarters camp. Dig into the desert and avoid the aircraft. But if a group of bungling Common Market diplomats can locate us, what's to keep the Arab Legion from doing it and blessing us with a stick of neopalm bombs?"
Isobel said, "Look, before we leave Dave. Did you know he was confiscating all radio equipment brought into our camp by the newsmen and whoever else?"
Homer frowned. "Well, why?"
"Espionage, Dave says. He's afraid some of these characters might be in with the Arab Union and inform on us."
"Well, that makes some sense," Homer nodded.
"Does it?" Isobel grumbled.
He shot an irritated glance at her again and said impatiently, "Can't the poor guy do anything right?"
"My woman's intuition is working," Isobel grumbled.