called it, Revel gave up counting, and slew his way
from button to button, gore of red and yellow spotting and splashing
him, wounds multiplying in his legs and arms and chest, half the hair
burnt off his head by the energy auras of angry orbs.
His force dwindled. Men died with throats torn out by zanphs, with eyes
singed from the sockets by globe-radiation. Men stood numbed and
useless, hypnotized into immobility. Men sat looking at spilling guts
that fell from zanph-slashed bellies. But still the Mink slew on and on,
a tall dark wild figure in the uncanny light of the still-flying
airships of the alien globes....
John was bringing them down faster than ever, and Revel must needs split
up his small force even more, sending miners to each wreck to catch as
many entities as possible. Many spheres of gold managed to rise into the
sky, where they found sanctuary in other saucers: some zanphs went
scooting for shelter in the rocks and bushes, but most stayed to fight
and die.
He yearned to check his forces back on the hill, those protecting John's
machine, and the men who still fought the gunmen in the upper end of the
valley. But he dared not take his encouraging presence from the miners
here. A button came swooping to earth not three yards from him, spraying
him with clods of dirt, unbalancing him by the shock; a zanph gained
purchase on his shoulder and tore flesh and sinew and muscle so that his
left arm lost much of its strength and cunning. He killed it with the
pick handle and struggled on into a mob of the brutes, panting now and
blinking blood from his eyes.
Of his original two hundred, less than seventy remained. Still he dared
not draw any from the protective ring. Where were the rebels that Vorl
and Sesker and the others had gone to rouse? Probably raiding mansions
miles away. He should have told them ... oh, well. Surely the
concentration of noise and buttons and gods above the valley would bring
them soon.
A moment's respite allowed him to look at the sky. It was lightening a
little for the early dawn, and the buttons were less bold; most of them
hovered near the horizon, only an occasional one bravely sailing in at a
terrific speed to make a try at bombing the valley. John, perhaps with
Nirea helping him, had managed to bring down every one so far. But John
and Revel would run out of luck some time, as every man does; then John
would miss, Revel's arm would fail, and they would all die.
*
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