The Project Gutenberg EBook of Narakan Rifles, About Face!, by Jan Smith
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Narakan Rifles, About Face!
Author: Jan Smith
Release Date: March 6, 2010 [EBook #31519]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NARAKAN RIFLES, ABOUT FACE! ***
Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Planet Stories January 1954. Extensive
research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this
publication was renewed.
Narakan Rifles, About Face!
By JAN SMITH
_Those crazy, sloppy, frog-like Narakans ... all thumbs and
six-inch skulls ... relics of the Suzi swamps. Until
four-fisted Lt. Terrence O'Mara moved among them--lethal,
dangerous, with a steady purpose flaming in his volcanic
eyes._
* * * * *
Terrence O'Mara lay flat on his back trying to keep his big body as
still as possible. Despite the fact that he was stripped to his
regulation shorts, a large pool of sweat had formed on the cot
underneath him. The only movement he permitted himself was an
occasional pursing of his lips as he dragged on a cigarette and sent a
swirl of smoke upward through the heavy humid air. Then he would just
lie there watching as the smoke crept up to mingle with the large
drops of water that were forming on the concrete of the command post.
"Damn! Damn Naraka, anyway! Outpost of civilization! Who'd want the
blasted place except the Rumi?"
[Illustration]
At the words, Terrence moved his head just a fraction of an inch and
his eyes only a little farther to look across the room to where Bill
Fielding was twisting and turning on his cot. All he could see of the
other man was the wet outline of his body under a once white sheet and
a hand that every so often reached into a bucket of water on the
floor and then replaced a soaking T-shirt over a red head.
"You'll feel it less if you lie still," Terrence said, distressed at
|