“Yes sir,” Mclntyre said.
The ground got steeper and more densely covered with foliage as me hours passed. As Mclntyre had predicted, the cruiser’s pilot had to keep the vehicle gliding along the flattest, easiest slopes. They followed a twisting, meandering path, avoiding the steeper grades and areas that were covered with boulders or large bushes. The sun climbed higher as Vorgens silently watched the seemingly empty countryside unfold on his scanner screen.
There are a thousand places for an ambush along this way, he thought. But it wiU take some doing for even Komani warriors to stop a heavy cruiser. It all depends on what kinds of weapons they ‘have; how much equipment. Like the tales of the old ones back home, when the Terrans first proclaimed their Empire … men against machines.
“Enemy breastworks at ten o’clock!”
Vorgens snapped his attention to the viewscreen. He twisted a dial and saw the entrenchment, about a hundred fifty yards from the cruiser. He dialed a close-up view. Empty.
“Hey, they’re firing from the ridge—three o’clock!” another footman called.
Vorgens dialed the scene. Sporadic small-arms fire was coming from the ridge. Off to one side, he noticed a small clump of trees. He dialed a close-up.
“Enemy troops in those trees at two o’clock,” he called into his mouthpiece.
The footmen on the right flank dropped to the ground as Mclntyre drove the turret around and swept the trees with ultrasonic beams. Then he swung back and launched a missile toward the ridge.
“They’re charging! Ten o’clock!”