You know what you think and what you believe. Do you have the nerve to act on it? Do you have the strength to make a decision that will mean life or death for aU the men in this vaUey? Can you shoulder that much responsibility?
He knew that, in reality, it did not matter whether he wanted to take the responsibility or not. It was his, and he could not escape itWhile Vorgens was arguing with Brigadier Aikens, Merdon was striding along the narrow crest of a ridge overlooking the valley where the Mobile Force lay huddled and waiting for the dawn.
The young Shinarian was inspecting his troops in the final hours before battle. In the softly lit night, he watched his rebels—students, farmers, young workers from the cities—as they cleaned their guns, checked their ammunition, went over their assignments with their squad leaders.
Tarat, walking beside Merdon, said, ‘They’re ready. They’re primed and ready for the battle.”
Merdon nodded. As he stepped along the ridge, the young fighters—girls as well as men—recognized him and waved or grinned in greeting.
Beyond the crest of the ridge the ground sloped away toward the valley floor. The Terran forces there were hidden in shadow, but Merdon could sense their presence.
“Any activity tonight?” he asked Tarat, pointing a thumb toward the darkened valley floor.
The lanky tactician shook his head. “They’ve been very quiet. A few patrols this morning, but they withdrew as soon as we offered some opposition. Since men, nothing.”
“H’m. Where are RomaT and the others?”