But we had evidently moved into an area where there were much more trees than open spaces. Also, as I had noticed before, all directions among those tree trunks looked alike. Our only way of being sure we would not be traveling in circles, but of keeping in a straight line away from the pursuing tanks, was to follow back along the direction we had come. This direction we could follow because we could be guided back along it by my wrist director. But that direction, that line of march that had brought us here, had been deliberately through all the treed areas I could find.
Meanwhile, we were moving at so slow a pace because of my knee that even the relatively slow-moving armor must soon catch up with us. I had been badly shaken by the sonic explosion earlier. Now, the continual jab-jabbing of the brilliant pain through my knee goaded me into a sort of feverish frenzy. It was like some calculated torture-and it happens that I am not a stoic when it comes to pain.
Neither am I cowardly, though I do not think it would be fair to call me brave, either. It is simply that I am so constructed that my response to pain beyond a certain level is fury. And the greater the pain the greater my rage. Some ancient berserker blood, perhaps, filtering down through the Irish in my veins, if you want to be romantic about it. But there it is-the fact. And now, as we hobbled through the eternal twilight between those gold-and-silver, peeling tree trunks, I exploded inside.
In my rage, I had no fear of the Friendly armor. I was certain of the fact that they would see my white and scarlet cloak in time not to fire at me. I was positive that if they did fire, both their beam and any falling tree trunks or limbs would miss me. In short I was convinced of my own invulnerability-and the only thing that concerned me was that Dave was being slowed down by being with me and that if anything happened to him Eileen would never get over it.
I raved at him, I cursed him. I told him to go on and leave me, and save his own neck, that I was in no danger by myself.
His only answer was that I had not abandoned him when the sonic barrage caught us both; and he would not abandon me. I was Eileen’s brother and it was his duty to take care of me. It was just as she had said in her letter, he was loyal. He was too damn loyal, he was a loyal damn fool-and I told him so, obscenely and at length. I tried valiantly to pull away from him; but hopping on one leg, tottering on one leg rather, it was no use. I sank down on the ground and refused to go any farther; but he actually outwrestled me and got me up on his back, piggyback, and tried to carry me that way.
That was even worse. I had to promise to go along with him, if he would let me down. He was already tottering himself from weariness when he let me. By that time, half-insane with my pain and my fury, I was ready to do anything to save him from himself. I began to yell for help as loudly as I could in spite of his efforts to shut me up.
It worked. In less than five minutes after he got me quiet we found ourselves staring down the pin-hole muzzles of the spring-rifles in the hands of two young Friendly skirmishers, attracted by my shouts.
CHAPTER 12
I had expected them to appear in answer to my shouts even more quickly. The Friendly skirmishers were naturally all around us almost from the moment we left the hill to its dead, under the command of their dead Force-Leader. These two might have been among the same Friendlies who had discovered the patrol dug in on the hill in the first place. But, having found it, they had moved on.
For it was their job to discover important pockets of Cassidan resistance, so that they could call for strength to eliminate those points. They would be carrying listening devices as part of their equipment, but they would pay little attention if those devices picked up merely the sound of two men arguing. Two men were game too small for their orders to concern themselves with.
But one man deliberately calling for help-that was an occurrence unusual enough to be worth investigating. A Soldier of the Lord should not be weak enough to be so calling, whether he needed personal assistance or not. And why should a Cassidan be appealing for aid in this area where no fighting had been going on? And who other than Soldiers of the Lord or their weaponed enemies might be in this zone of battle?
Now they knew who might be-a Newsman and his assistant. Both noncombatants, as I was quick to point out to them. Nevertheless the spring-rifles remained steadily aimed at us.
“Damn your eyes!” I told them. “Can’t you see I need medical attention? Get me to one of your field hospitals right away!”
They looked back at me with startlingly innocent eyes in smooth young faces. The one on the right wore the single collar mark of a lance-private, the other was an ordinary battle-class private soldier. Neither one of them was out of his teens.
“We have no orders to turn aside and return to a field hospital,” said the lance-private, speaking for both of them, as the-barely-superior in rank. “I can only conduct you to a gathering spot for prisoners, where no doubt other measures will be taken for your care.” He stepped back, his rifle still aimed at us. “Do thou help the other to aid this wounded man along, Greten,” he said dropping into the cant to speak to his partner. “Take his other side and I will follow with both our weapons.”
The other soldier passed over his spring-rifle and between him and Dave, I began getting over the ground a little more comfortably, although the rage still seethed and bubbled in me. They brought us to a clearing finally, not an actual grass-filled clearing exposed to the sun, but a spot where one huge tree had fallen and left open a sort of glade among the other giants. Here, there were perhaps twenty or so dejected-looking Cassidans, disarmed and being held under guard by four young Friendlies like those who had captured us.
Dave and the young Friendly soldier sat me down carefully with my back to the stump of the huge fallen tree. Then Dave was herded over to join the rest of the uniformed Cassidans, who were backed against the tall trunk of the fallen and moldering tree itself, with the four armed Friendly guards facing them. I shouted that Dave should be left with me as a non-combatant, pointing out his white armband and lack of insignia. But all six of the men in black uniforms ignored me.
“Who hath rank here?” asked the lance-private of the four guards.
“I am senior,” answered one of them, “but my rank is less than thine.”
He was, in fact, a plain battle-private. However, he was well into his twenties, plainly older than the rest of them, and his quick disclaimer of authority had the ring of the experienced soldier, who has learned not to volunteer for things.
“This man is a Newsman,” said the lance-private, indicating me, “and does claim the other under his protection. Certain the Newsman needeth medical attention; and though none of us can take him to the nearest field hospital, maybe thou canst call his case to the attention of higher authority over thy communicator,”
“We have none,” said the older soldier, “Message center is two hundred meters distant.”
“I and Greten will remain to assist thy guard while one of you go to your message center.”
“There was no provision “-the older, battle-private looked stubborn-“in our orders for one of us to leave for such a purpose.”
“Surely this is a special case and situation?”
“There was no provision.”
“But-”
“I tell thee, there was no provision made for this!” the battle-private shouted at him. “We can do nothing until an officer or a Groupman comes!”
“Will he come shortly?” The lance-private had been shaken by the vehemence of the objections of the older man. He glanced over at me worriedly; and I thought that perhaps he was beginning to think he had made a mistake in even mentioning medical help for us. But I had underestimated him. His face was a little pale, but he spoke evenly enough to the older man.
“I do not know,” answered the other.
“Then I myself will go to your message center. Wait here, Greten.”
He shouldered his spring-rifle and went off. We never saw him again.