It took Wyatt quite a long minute to realize that he was still alive
and not even badly hurt. He didn't know about Brinna, but when he
pushed her off him he was relieved to see her move. He scrambled to
his feet and helped her up. Makvern came from the direction of the
bridge. He shouted and made urgent motions. He was bleeding from a cut
on the cheek and his shirt was torn. Wyatt pushed Brinna toward him and
clambered over the buckled walls to the observation chamber.
Burdick and Whitfield and the Apache were already crawling toward him.
The Turcoman came after them, but the Arab was dead, lying in a corner
with his head twisted under him. The Alpha Centaurians had taken less
damage on their side. Three of them were hurt but they were all able to
move. Wyatt shouted at them to come out and made his way back to where
Makvern and the officers from the bridge had got the hatch open. In a
minute he had dropped out of it perhaps eight feet to the ground, in
a tangle of broken trees, and the others were coming one by one after
him. The two ships, one of which had brought them down, had shot over
them and away, presumably to turn and make another pass.
Or maybe there was no need for another pass.
They had crashed at the edge of the city, just missing a row of
mudbrick houses shaped like ovens with round brick roofs. Beyond, the
ships of the Task Force stood like ominous towers in the green fields,
discharging their ground attack vehicles.
Wyatt had heard about these but he had never seen any. Every destroyer
carried a number of them to clear the way for troops, in the manner of
tank units, only these were not in any way like tanks. They consisted
of a monstrous red globe mounted on four jointed legs which were about
four times a man's height so that the globes stood high off the ground.
There was a small propeller mount underneath so that the globes could
become amphibious at need. They were horrible-looking things to come
stalking at you over the flat fields, and they were stalking pretty
fast. Some twenty yards away to the right a battery of three small
shiny cannon popped and banged, served by furry men whose courage was
only exceeded by the futility of what they did.
Makvern was talking. He was fierce and alert, a man caught in a tight
spot and determined to get out of it.
"Our men are to gather in the northwest sector of the perimeter.
We'll try to fight our way to them. This sector here is designated as
northeast and we're pretty close to the middle of it, so it could be
worse. Stick together and let's go fast."
Brinna said quite coolly, "Watch it, they're coming within range."
They began to run, away from the wrecked ship and toward the row of
houses, bunched together and looking warily over their shoulders.
One of the globes in particular seemed to have decided to follow
them--probably it had been ordered to after the ship crashed. Now Wyatt
could see a circle of round shuttered ports around its top, and one of
them had opened. A large sort of gun or projector was rising from the
hole on a flexible mount, bobbing about in an inquisitive fashion like
the head of a bird on a long neck. Suddenly it made a point directly at
them and a brilliant white beam shot toward them. They leaped for cover
between the houses, but the beam was short. Where it hit the ground it
erupted into a shower of green sparks.
"Heavy-duty stunner," Makvern said. "When one of those hits you you
stay down till the battle's over."
They ran again, ducking and dodging between the queer round-roofed
houses.
"Don't they kill?" Wyatt asked.
"Not often. The very old, little children, invalids. It's humane, as
weapons go."
Another white beam sizzled down close behind Whitfield, bursting
green where it hit. The red globe towered over them against the sky,
grotesquely like a huge round-bodied quadruped with a ludicrously small
head on that bobbing little neck.
"I don't reckon," said Burdick, "that we're going to outrun that for
long."
* * * * *
Thurne turned a slitted panther look on the globe and said, "I can lead
you by safer ways, if you can run very swiftly ahead of it for a little
time."
"We can run," said Makvern.
They ran. Wyatt, Burdick and Whitfield all had ideas about giving
Brinna a hand, only to find that she was going fleet as a deer with
long clean strides. They ran their hearts into their throats and the
breath clear out of them and they made it into a long colonnade that
covered the walk beside a great building covered with the rows of
sculptured dancing gods that seemed to delight Thurne's people. In the
broad street men were dragging more of the queer little cannon into
place. Their body-fur was dark and mottled with sweat. Several of them
left the cannon and came leaping toward Makvern's party, their teeth
and claws bared, but Thurne shouted at them in his own tongue and they
stopped reluctantly. The five who had been captive with Thurne now ran
to join the men with the cannon, which were already hurling shot at the
stalking globe and not hurting it at all. Thurne pointed to a wide low
door and said, "In here."
They crowded through. Over his shoulder, in the brilliant sunlight
outside, Wyatt saw green fire in the street. The cannoneers fell down
and the little guns were silent.
Inside it was quite dark by contrast, a great vaulted place so crowded
with carvings and shadows that for a minute or two he couldn't tell
if anything alive was in there or not. Then he got the sounds, the
breathing and stirring, the whimpering of small creatures, the
whisperings. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he saw that the
place was full of women and children huddled along the walls on either
side and in the alcoves which he supposed were shrines because they had
big ornate statues in them and little lamps. The children, especially
the very young ones, looked like oversized kittens.
Makvern said, "See those statues, and the gilding of the vault? All
gold, and the stones are real too, every one of them. A poor place to
seek sanctuary from looters."
The hot feral eyes of the women made Wyatt shiver. All along the way
they would rise and come out with a white gleaming of claws and teeth.
If it had not been for Thurne they would have been torn to pieces in
seconds. Wyatt was glad when they reached the other end of the building
and emerged again into sunlight and the sharp sounds of battle.
The red globes were stalking everywhere now, their monstrous forms
visible over the roofs of houses or between the towers of the larger
buildings. The defenders were being struck down or driven back into
the heart of the city, and troops of Uryx were already in the outlying
streets, beginning the systematic business of sacking Obran.
A globe had just passed by in the street, leaving in its wake a litter
of stunned forms that looked sufficiently like corpses, but the troops
had not yet come in sight. There was another huge carved building
across the way. They raced toward it, and the men who were operating
the departing globe did not see them in time to fire.
This building was better lighted inside, although it had just as much
carving, gilding and statuary as the last one. This was obviously
a hospital. Some of the patients began to scream at the sight of
the strangers and attendants ran to bar the way. Once more Thurne's
authority got them through--almost. This time, as they reached the
doorway at the far end, a party of Varsek's troops came in.
There were eight or nine of them with stunners in their hands. They
were expecting trouble but nothing more than they could easily handle,
and the first thing they saw about the group inside was the uniforms of
Makvern and his officers. The leader actually saluted, and while he was
doing it he saw the Earthmen all armed, and the Alpha Centaurian armed,
and he said in sudden alarm to his party,
"Look out, these are the people--"
He didn't get any farther. Makvern's stunner knocked him down and then
Wyatt began firing and so did the others. There was a brief but violent
crackling of beams, and when it was all over seven of the fleet party
were down and two had made it out the door. Whitfield and No-Name and
two of the officers had gone down.
So had Thurne.
From here on they were on their own.
"Well," said Makvern grimly, "let's get them up and out of here."
* * * * *
Wyatt heaved No-Name onto his shoulders and Burdick carried Whitfield,
his long legs dragging. They left Thurne where he was, with his own
people. Burdened and staggering, they started out the door. And now
Brinna said,
"You'd better give me a weapon."
Makvern shook his head.
"I don't see what you're afraid of," she said. "I know you won't kill
me and I know Varsek would. He wouldn't believe any story I could tell
him now."
Makvern hesitated and then said, "All right. Take one of theirs."
She picked up a stunner and they all went out together, cautiously,
into the bright sun.
Here they were near one corner of a broad square. A globe was marching
toward them on its jointed stilt-legs, coming up the street to their
right, with men on foot following behind it. There were overturned
cannon and fallen men near the corner, where the beams had hit, and
other men were running away across the square, their faces wild with
fury and fear and helplessness.
Makvern pointed to the mouth of a street diagonally across from them.
"Make for that. Our ships should not be far beyond here now, if--"
Wyatt thought he was going to say _if the Second Party has been
successful_. But he didn't. It was hardly worth bringing that up, not
now.
They ran out across the square, heavy and slow with their burdens.
Once again they were lucky. They made the transit past the corner
before the men in the globe could fire at them, and then the buildings
protected them. A haze of dust and smoke hung in the air. The queer
high-piled towers and the crowded masses of carving seemed to waver
like things seen through water. The gods and goddesses almost seemed to
move, dancing and smiling with fierce, grotesque dignity.
Some of the Alpha Centaurians who had been running away saw them and
turned back.
They had weapons like very primitive pistols, and they had long sharp
knives. The ones with pistols paused to load them. The others charged.
And from the street behind came the measured clanging tread of the
globe.
Wyatt fired. Nobody stopped running, they didn't dare to, because the
globe was a worse enemy than these furry men. They fired as they went
and some of the Alpha Centaurians fell under the stun rays and the rest
turned back, waiting for the others who were loading their pistols.
Wyatt panted and labored on under the weight of the Apache. The mouth
of the street was not far away now. Brinna and those of the men who
were not burdened had lagged behind to cover the others. Their stunners
crackled. Another one or two of the furry men went down, and then
there was a series of sharper crackling sounds and one of the officers
stopped and looked down in astonishment at the hole in his middle, from
which blood had begun to flow. A ball hit close to Wyatt's feet and
skipped away over the stones. Others rattled off the walls.
Makvern yelled to them to hurry, sweeping the Alpha Centaurians with a
continuous flare from his stunner. Brinna was helping the wounded man,
half carrying him and firing steadily with her free arm. Wyatt softened
toward her immensely in that moment.
The street mouth swallowed them. In almost the same instant the walking
globe rounded the corner. Its heavy beams took care of the Alpha
Centaurians, which was a favor to Makvern's party that was more or
less forced upon it. It would be after them too, probably, but in the
meantime the street ahead of them was clear and there was a bend in it
that would give them protection.
They staggered on, in the dust and the hot sun. They rounded the bend
and Wyatt saw a short row of little houses and over them the tall
distant forms of ships.
He thought for a minute that they were safe, that they had made it. And
then he saw the uniformed troops running up the street toward them,
utterly cutting them off.