Mclntyre looked surprised. He tapped the cast on the floor. It sounded good. He ran a hand over the innocentlooking bandages. “By Pluto, this’U break any bone in the galaxyDid you bring anything from the cruiser, sir?”
“Just something from the medical kit. It’s not a weapon, but it could be just as’important to us.”
He pulled a small bottle of pills from his jacket pocket. “These are mescal capsules,” Vorgens explained, opening the bottle and handing them out. “They speed up your perceptions, temporarily, so that everything around you seems to be moving very slowly. If we’re going to depend on surprise, it might be useful to be able to see the enemy’s reactions in slow motion. It would give you time to think about your next move—in the middle of a handto-hand fight!”
Mclntyre popped a capsule into his mouth, swallowed hard, then grinned. “I’m glad we’ve got a Star Watchman with us, sir. Us poor footsloggers wouldn’t think to look for weapons in the infirmary.”
“Coming from you, sergeant, that’s a real compliment.”
They discussed tactics for a few minutes, while llowing the mescal to take effect. As a test, Vorgens took Mclntyre’s stinger and dropped it to the floor. It floated down like a feather and bounced lazily for what seemed like several minutes. They were ready.
Their plan was simple, based on speed and surprise.
Giradaux was lead man. He came bombing out of the tent at top speed, diving straight into one of the guards. The big Komani, half asleep, toppled over and Giradaux started to spin free of him. As the other three guards turned to face the Terran, drawing their weapons, Vorgens and Mclntyre entered the fight.