who had piloted her, if
not dead already (which might account for the lack of defense), must
have fallen victim to that. But the Throg was going to make very sure.
The second flyer halted, remaining poised long enough to unleash a
second bolt--dazzling any watching eyes and broadcasting a vibration
to make Shann's skin crawl when the last faint ripple reached his
lookout post.
What happened then the overconfident Throg was not prepared to take.
Shann cried out, burying his face on his arm, as pinwheels of scarlet
light blotted out normal sight. There was an explosion, a deafening
blast. He cowered, blind, unable to hear. Then, rubbing at his eyes, he
tried to see what had happened.
Through watery blurs he made out the Throg ship, not swinging now in
serene indifference to Warlock's gravity, but whirling end over end
across the sky as might a leaf tossed in a gust of wind. Its rim caught
against a rust-red cliff, it rebounded and crumpled. Then it came down,
smashing perhaps half a mile away from the smoking crater in which
lay the mangled wreckage of the Terran ship. The disabled scout pilot
must have played a last desperate game, making of his ship bait for a
trap.
The Terran had taken one Throg with him. Shann rubbed again at his
eyes, just barely able to catch a glimpse of the second ship flashing
away westward. Perhaps it was only his impaired sight, but it appeared
to him that the Throg followed an erratic path, either as if the pilot
feared to be caught by a second shot, or because that ship had also
suffered some injury.
Acid smoke wreathed up from the valley making Shann retch and
cough. There could be no survivor from the Terran scout, and he did
not believe that any Throg had lived to crawl free of the crumpled plate.
But there would be other beetles swarming here soon. They would not
dare to leave the scene unsearched. He wondered about that scout. Had
the pilot been aiming for the Survey camp, the absence of any rider
beam from there warning him off so that he made the detour which
brought him here? Or had the Throgs tried to blast the Terran ship in
the upper atmosphere, crippling it, making this a forced landing? But at
least this battle had cost the Throgs, settling a small portion of the
Terran debt for the lost camp.
The length of time between Shann's sighting of the grounded ship and
the attack by the Throgs had been so short that he had not really
developed any strong hope of rescue to be destroyed by the end of the
crippled ship. On the other hand, seeing the Throgs take a beating had
exploded his subconscious acceptance of their superiority. He might
not have even the resources of a damaged scout at his command. But he
did have Taggi, Togi, and his own brain. Since he was fated to
permanent exile on Warlock, there might just be some way to make the
beetles pay for that.
He licked his lips. Real action against the aliens would take a lot of
planning. Shann would have to know more about what made a Throg a
Throg, more than all the wild stories he had heard over the years. There
had to be some way a Terran could move effectively against a
beetle-head. And he had a lot of time, maybe the rest of his life to work
out a few answers. That Throg ship lying wrecked at the foot of the
cliff ... perhaps he could do a little investigating before any rescue
squad arrived. Shann decided such a move was worth the try and
whistled to the wolverines.
3. TO CLOSE RANKS
Shann made his way at an angle to avoid the smoking pit cradling the
wreckage of the Terran ship. There were no signs of life about the
Throg plate as he approached. A quarter of its bulk was telescoped back
into the rest, and surely none of the aliens could have survived such a
smash, tough as they were reputed to be with those horny carapaces
serving them in place of more vulnerable human skin.
He sniffed. There was a nauseous odor heavy on the morning air, one
which would make a lasting impression on any human nose. The port
door in the black ship stood open, perhaps having burst in the impact
against the cliff. Shann had almost reached it when a crackle of chain
lightning beat across the ground before him, turning the edge of the
buckled entrance panel red.
Shann dropped to the ground, drawing his stunner, knowing at the same
moment that such a weapon was about as much use in meeting a blaster
as
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