grew thicker, like a heavy blanket being drawn across the road, a
multitude of Dusties lining up.

Pete's hair prickled on the back of his neck. They knew so little about
the creatures, so _very_ little. As he watched the brown carpet rolling
out, he tried to think. Could there be a weapon in their hands, could
they somehow have perceived the evil that came from the ship, somehow
sensed the desperation in the men's voices as they had laid their plans?
Pete stared, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. They were
there in the road, thousands upon thousands of them, standing there,
waiting--for what?

Three columns of dust were coming from the road now. Through the glasses
Pete could see the jeeps, filled with men in their gleaming gray
uniforms, crash helmets tight about their heads, blasters glistening in
the pale light. They moved in deadly convoy along the rutted road,
closer and closer to the crowd of Dusties overflowing the road.

The Dusties just stood there. They didn't move. They didn't shift, or
turn. They just waited.

The captain's car was first in line. He pulled up before the line with a
screech of brakes, and stared at the sea of creatures before him. "Get
out of there!" he shouted.

The Dusties didn't move.

The captain turned to his men. "Fire into them," he snapped. "Clear a
path."

There was a blaze of fire, and a half a dozen Dusties slid to the
ground, convulsing. Pete felt a chill pass through him, staring in
disbelief. The Dusties had a weapon, he kept telling himself, they
_must_ have a weapon, something the colonists had never dreamed of. The
guns came up again, and another volley echoed across the valley, and a
dozen more Dusties fell to the ground. For every one that fell, another
moved stolidly into its place.

With a curse the captain sat down in the seat, gunned the motor, and
started forward. The jeep struck the fallen bodies, rolled over them,
and plunged straight into the wall of Dusties. Still they didn't move.
The car slowed and stopped, mired down. The other cars picked up
momentum and plunged into the brown river of creatures. They too ground
to a stop.

The captain started roaring at his men. "Cut them down! We're going to
get through here!" Blasters began roaring into the faces of the Dusties,
and as they fell the jeeps moved forward a few feet until more of the
creatures blocked their path.

Pete heard a cry below him, and saw Jack Mario standing in the road, gun