d tossed it after the bombs. A whoof and a sheet
of flame blew out.

About fifty yards away there was a slender, popplelike tree. Ed had
thought if he could make that, he would be reasonably secure while the
Harn burned. He ran for it as hard as he could, beating at the flames
that had spattered on him from the burning gas, but he never made it.

Harn were erupting everywhere. A carrier suddenly came charging out of
the brush to his left. While Ed dealt with that one, the Harn played its
ace in the hole. The two special units it had been developing to deal
with Ed were not quite done yet, but they were done enough to work for
the few minutes the Harn needed them. Ed heard a coughing grunt behind
him and spun around to see something new crawling out of the flame and
smoke at the den entrance.

This one was a roughly carrier shaped creature, but half again as large,
built for killing. It had powerful fanged jaws and its eight feet were
armed with knifelike, disemboweling claws. As it came at Ed in a
lumbering rush, another came crawling out after it.

Ed shot four times, as fast as he could work the action. The heavy slugs
did the job, but not quite well enough. With its dying lunge the thing
got to him and tossed him ten feet like a rag doll. He lit on his bad
hand and felt the wrist bones go.

As he struggled to get up, digging his elbow in and using one hand, he
saw a stinger darting in at him. He had lost both the bug gun and his
rifle when the fighting unit swiped him. He swiveled on his hips and
kicked the stinger away. Then he saw the second fighting unit coming. He
forgot about the stinger. It still might get to him, but, if it did, it
would be too late to matter.

He drew his knife, managed to get to one knee, and crouched there like
an old gray rat, stubbly lips drawn back from worn teeth in a grin of
pain and rage. This was one he wasn't going to win, he guessed.

Ten feet away, the fighting unit suddenly ran down like a clockwork toy.
It toppled over, skidded past him under its own momentum, and lay there
kicking spasmodically. Ed glared at it uncomprehendingly. It arched its
neck back to almost touch its haunches, stiffened, and was still.

Ed looked around. The stinger was dead too, three feet from his
shoulder, and half a dozen more which had been making for him. A cloud
of greasy, stinking smoke was rolling out of the den. The Harn was
dead.

Ed put his knife away and lay back. He did not quite p