“On the way,” he said. “Biggest thing I ‘ver heard. Not a beast ‘tween here and the mountains, ain’t howlin’ ‘is lungs out, rwmin’ toward the city.,’
Jason was aware of part of it. A tension in the air and a wave a! intensified anger and hatred. It would work, he knew, if they couk only keep the attack confined to a small area. The talkers had seemec sure of it. They had stalked out quietly that morning, a thin line a! ragged men, moving in a mental sweep that would round up the Pyrrar life and send it charging against the city.
“They hit!” Naxa said suddenly.
The men were on their feet now, staring in the direction of the city Jason had felt the twist in his gut as the attack had been driven home and knew that this was it. There was the sound of shots and a heav3 booming far away. Thin streamers of smoke began to blow above thc treetops.
“Let’s get into position,” Plies said.
Around them the jungle howled with an echo of hatred. The half sentient plants writhed and the air was thick with small flying things Naxa sweated and mumbled as he turned back the animals that crashec toward them. By the time they reached the last screen of foliage befon the burned-out area, they had lost four men. One had been stung by ax insect; Jason got the medikit to him in time but he was so sick he ha to turn back The other three were bitten or scratched and treatmen came too late. Their swollen, twisted bodies were left behind on
trail.
“Dam’ beasts hurt m’ head,” Naxa muttered. “When we go in?”
“Not yet,” Plies said. ‘We wait for the signal.”
One of the men carried the radio. He set it down carefully, thei
threw the aerial over a branch. The set was shielded so no radiation leaked out to give them away. It was turned on, but only a hiss of atmospheric static came from the speaker.
“We could have timed it… .” Plies said.
“No, we c@uldn’t,” Jason told him. “Not accurately. We want to hit that wall at the height of the attack, when our chances are best. Even if they hear the message it won’t mean a thing to them inside. And a few minutes later it won’t matter.”
The sound from the speaker changed. A voice spoke a short sentence, then cut off.
“Bring me three barrels of flour.”
“Let’s go,” Rhes urged as he started forward.
‘Wait,” Jason said, taking him by the arm. “I’m timing the flamethrower. It’s due in… there!” A blast of fire sprayed the ground, then turned off. “We have four minutes to the next one-we hit the long period!”
They ran, stumbling in the soft ashes, tripping over charred bones and rusted metal. Two men grabbed Jason under the arm and half carried him across the ground. It hadn’t been planned that way, but it saved precious seconds. They dropped him against the wall and he fumbled out the bombs he had made. The charges from Krannon’s gun, taken when he was killed, had been hooked together with a firing circuit. All the moves had been rehearsed carefully and they went smoothly now.
Jason had picked the metal wall as being the best spot to break in. It offered the most resistance to the native life, so the chances were it wouldn’t be reinforced with sandbags or fill, the way other parts of the wall were. If he was wrong, they were all dead.
The first men had slapped their wads of sticky congealed sap against the wall. Jason pressed the charges into them and they stuck, a roughly rectangular pattern as high as a man. ‘While he did this, the detonating wire was run out to its length and the raiders pressed back against the base of the wall. Jason stumbled through the ashes to the detonator, fell on it and pressed the switch at the same time.
Behind him a thundering bang shook the wall and red flame burst out. Plies was the first one there, pulling at the twisted and smoking metal with his gloved hands. Others grabbed on and bent the jagged pieces aside. The hole was filled with smoke and nothing was visible through it. Jason dived into the opening, rolled on a heap of rubble and smacked into something solid. When he blinked the smoke from his eyes, he looked around him.