Screaming in terror, Kissel threw away his blaster. “I surrender! I surrender!” he whimpered, raising both hands. “Don’t kill me!”
The Beast loomed before the shaking man, its cannon swinging to point at him directly. Openly weeping, Kissel braced himself for death, and the machine rumbled off, leaving him unharmed amid the wreckage and carnage of the defeated troops. “I’m alive. I’m alive,” he whispered in shock. Then shouted. “It doesn’t kill if you surrender!”
But there was nobody alive to hear the news. The catwalk was lined with smoking bodies, and most of the blind had long ago crawled away out of earshot.
A sudden crushing shame for his act of cowardice hit the sec man, icy fear knifing into his stomach almost making him retch. But nobody had seen, nobody had heard. Grabbing weapons off the ground, Kissel reclaimed his horse and galloped out the smashed gate of the fiery palisade, heading for the distant mountains.
SMASHING ASIDE a split-rail fence, the Ranger rolled into the marketplace of the civilian town. Single-story cabins of scrap wood and tar paper lined both sides of the common. Produce was strewn about and carts overturned. The area had been vacated in a hurry, yet every cabin door was closed, a most singular incongruity. The Ranger slowed, wary of a trap.
Across the market, a corporal stepped into view from behind a water barrel, drew a Yen pistol from his belt and put a single round into the air. He died a microsecond later, the charred corpse reduced to little more than ashes with boots. But the Ranger slowed, knowing something was about to happen.
Then the front of the cottages violently disintegrated as fifty muzzle-loading cannons fired in unison. The barrage of iron slammed into the tank, rocking it back and forth, as waves of gray smoke flooded over the market. Inside, relays cracked and the repair drones bustled to fix burgeoning short circuits. Bright orange tongues of flame stabbed into the murky smoke as a second volley hammered the tank, and it tipped over, exposing its belly. Unsure of what to do, the Ranger fired the laser randomly, but unable to traverse, it could only hit the earth and sky, not the enemy to the sides. Hydraulic systems began to leak thin red fluid on control boards, and the drones rushed to fix potentially dangerous leaks.
The sec men in the ruined cottages redoubled their efforts to load the cannons, swabbing inside the hot barrels with damp rags to kill any lingering sparks before pouring in fresh bags of black powder.
The main computer of the Ranger considered a million options and chose a direct tactic. All auxiliary power surged to the gyroscopes, increasing the revolutions to the maximum and then beyond. The rocking of the craft stopped altogether, and in majestic slow motion, the Ranger righted itself, the treads slamming onto the ground. Now the cannon swung to attack.
Dropping their wet nimrods, the armed sec men tried to flee from the cottages and failed.
ON THE EASTERN SIDE of the ville, a platoon of sec men hurried along a dank alleyway, struggling to carry a bulky, canvas-wrapped object approximately the size of a small car.
Calling for a halt, the sergeant advanced to the stone wall and began to run his hands over the rough surface as if fondling a lover. There was a click.
“This is it!” he announced, as a section of the wall disengaged and swung aside to reveal a large tunnel. “Everybody in!”
The platoon scurried inside as quickly as possible, the last man pausing at the entrance with blaster in hand, making sure no slaves saw their departure through the wall.
“What is this?” asked the corporal as the secret door closed with an echoing boom.
“Private escape route for the ward,” the sergeant said, raising the lantern higher to spread out the light “Built generations ago in case of a slave rebellion.”
The corporal glanced around them. “This is big enough for the Beast to move through!”
“That’s why we’re going to trap it outside the wall,” the sergeant replied. “Just in case it can find the passage.”
Emerging out the other side, the guards found a horse stable, a blacksmith shop, a gaudy house and dozens of the usual slave cottages. But no people; the area was deserted.