he window casing above and beside them. Across the
room a man crumpled. Ken risked a glance through the window. "We've got
to get out!" he exclaimed. "They're going to rush the house!"

It might have been possible to hold if he knew what cover and
reinforcements they had in the adjacent houses, but as far as he could
tell the small, 12-man patrol might be entirely alone in the area.

Suddenly, it all seemed utterly hopeless without communication, without
leadership--how could they hope to withstand?

"Let's go!" he cried. The others seemed willing to follow him. As they
went through the back he saw that the next house had indeed been
occupied, but they, too, were retreating, not knowing what strength was
near.

A new line of defenders was moving up from halfway down the block. Ken
held back to shout to the other patrol and to those coming, "Let's stand
in the next street!"

There were shouts of assent from down the line and they moved to the
shelter of the empty houses.

They were close to the edge of town, near the barbed-wire barricade, and
the nomads would obviously make their biggest effort here to wipe out
the forces that threatened to close them off. His own group, Ken saw,
would also have to make their stand here or risk being pocketed by the
uncoiling line of nomads.

"Don't let them get close enough to fire the buildings!" he shouted down
the line. The word was passed along with agreement. They broke into
small patrols and occupied the houses, Ken joining one that took over
the top floor of a 2-story house. This gave them the advantage of good
observation, but the added danger of difficult escape in case the house
was set on fire. Its walls were brick, however, and offered a good
chance of being held.

Within minutes, the nomads had occupied the houses just abandoned. Ken
fired rapidly and carefully as he saw them exposed momentarily in their
move to new positions. His marksmanship had a telling effect on the
enemy, and encouraged his companions. As soon as the nomads had obtained
cover however, it was a stalemate.

It was mid-morning already, and Ken wondered how it had grown so late.
For an hour or two they exchanged shots with the enemy. Twice, attempts
were made to hurl firebombs. Both were driven back.

Beyond this, however, the nomads seemed in no mood to make further
attack. They were waiting for darkness, Ken thought, and then they
would advance with their firebombs and grenades and have fre