“A little -further down the line. They’re waiting for you.”
“Good.”
“Say, have you told Altai to stay away from the battle?”
Merdon’s head jerked upward involuntarily. “Why … what makes you ask?”
“She hasn’t been here all night. We thought she’d be coming with you, but she didn’t. She’s always been in the thick of everything—ever since the first fights at the university.”
“She’ll be here,” Merdon said flatly.
“When? I mean, what’s keeping her? She’s our good luck charm.”
“She’ll be here!”
Tarat stared at his chief for a moment, then decided to drop the subject. “I’ve set up the command post up there,” he pointed, “on that little knoll. Gives us a good view of the ridge and the whole valley.”
“Good.”
They climbed up the side of the knoll and stepped into the dugout that had been cut into its crest. It had a bare, earthen floor and walls, and was roofless. Merdon glanced up at the sly. A few clouds were scudding across the stars.
“It’s not going to rain, is it?”
Romal answered, “We made a radio contact with our underground forces in Capital City. Their meteorologist predicts some cloudiness here for tomorrow, but no rain.”
Merdon turned from the little quartermaster to another of his lieutenants”Ron, you’re a farmer. Will it rain tomorrow?”
Ron scratched his head. “Shouldn’t. But we might get a shower towards sundown.”
“So much for meteorology,” Merdon muttered.
He turned and surveyed the dugout. Portable communications equipment stood along one wall, with a table full of maps alongside it. Merdon went to the table and half sat against it.