driven by an overpowering urge to do something, anything, except the
intelligent thing, which was sit and wait.
Intellectually he could understand that. He felt the same way. But the
kind of training it takes to fly a high-performance jet had drummed the
value of patience into him. Dragon riding didn’t demand the same
qualities, or maybe Karin was still too inexperienced to have learned
them.
Gilligan considered knocking her out and tying her up. But Karin was lithe
and strong. Then he considered Stigi’s likely reaction if he tried it and
quickly discarded the notion.
The dragon rider set her jaw defiantly. “You have your own rations and
equipment. I am sure that you will have no trouble reaching the far end of
the island. I will give you a note so that your story will be believed
should you meet one of our patrols. Then you can send help on to me.”
“You’re crazy, you know that?”
Karin shrugged. “I have my duty.”
Mick stepped forward and grasped her hands in his. “I’m not going to let
you do this. Not alone.” Karin looked at him and then smiled.
Hell of an expeditionary force, he thought as he pulled her close and
kissed her hard. Two crazies and a gimpy dragon. Then he opened his eyes
and looked at the woman in his arms.
Still, he thought, there are compensations in being crazy.
They spent the rest of the day packing and headed out across the plain the
next morning. Karin took the lead with Gilligan beside her. Stigi followed
at her heels like an overgrown hound.
The morning was bright and the sky was painted pastel blues and pinks by
the rising sun. Except for an occasional broken limb or an uprooted tree
there was nothing to suggest what had happened here two days ago. The
plains animals had returned to their normal habits and several times they
passed herds of them grazing in the distance.
Once Stigi bridled and snorted as though an animal had come near, but he
quickly relaxed and resumed walking. Either there had been nothing there,
Gilligan decided, or whatever it was had gotten a look at Stigi and
decided not to try anything.
Thirty-four: REC0N BATTLE
For three days they trekked across the plain. The tree-studded veldt gave
way to grassy savanna and the grass grew shorter and sparser. The soil was
brick red now and vegetation grew poorly. Water was something you found in
greenish sinks instead of rivers or streams and trees became a memory.
Several times they saw large columns of dust to the north, as if distant
armies were on the march. They tried to go between them and saw nothing.
The herds had been left behind them on the veldt and now even the
antelopelike runners were scarce.
There were signs, however. Twice they crossed ground which had been torn
up by treads. Once the tread marks were accompanied by what appeared to be
enormous footprints, as if some unimaginable two-legged beast had been
following the vehicles.
On mid-afternoon of the third day they were approaching a low ridge of
reddish earth when Karin called a sudden halt.
“Wait.” She held up her hand and dug something out of her pouch. “There is
magic ahead of us.”
Gilligan reached for his gun. “What kind?”
“It doesn’t tell me that, only . . .”
With a thundering roar a tank burst over the hill. Beside it came three
two-legged robots, springing forward on back-flexing limbs. While the tank
nosed up and over the hill, the robots leaped over the ridge like giant
grasshoppers.
Stigi reared back, wings spread and neck extended, and roared a challenge.
Karin dropped to one knee and had the bow off her shoulder and an arrow
nocked in one fluid motion. Without seeming to aim she fired at the tank.
The arrow hit the tank’s armor without seeming effect. With a roar of its
engine it continued down the hill straight at the party.
“Run for it!” Gilligan yelled and dashed to his left to try to circle the
attackers. Seeing his action, Karin broke right.
Stigi had a different idea. The dragon inhaled and blasted a gout of flame