t, pulled
something and waved Brion to the ground. "Shaped charge. Should blow
straight in, but you never can tell."

The ground jumped under them and the ringing thud was a giant fist
punching through the wall. A cloud of dust and smoke rolled clear
and they could see the dark opening in the rock, a tunnel driven
into the wall by the directional force of the explosion. Telt shone
a light through the hole at the crumbled chamber inside.

"Nothing to worry about from anybody who was leaning against this
wall. But let's get in and out of this black beehive before the ones
upstairs come down to investigate."

Shattered rock was thick on the floor, and they skidded and tumbled
over it. Telt pointed the way with his light, down a sharply angled
ramp. "Underground chambers in the rock. They always store their
stuff down there--"

A smoking, black sphere arced out of the tunnel's mouth, hitting at
their feet. Telt just gaped, but even as it hit the floor Brion was
jumping forward. He caught it with the side of his foot, kicking it
back into the dark opening of the tunnel. Telt hit the ground next
to him as the orange flame of an explosion burst below. Bits of
shrapnel rattled from the ceiling and wall behind them.

"Grenades!" Telt gasped. "They've only used them once before--can't
have many. Gotta warn Hys." He plugged a throat mike into the
transmitter on his tack and spoke quickly into it. There was a
stirring below and Brion poured a rain of fire into the tunnel.

"They're catching it bad on top, too! We gotta pull out. Go first
and I'll cover you."

"I came for my Disan--I'm not leaving until I get one."

"You're crazy! You're dead if you stay!"

Telt was scrambling back towards the crumbled entrance as he talked.
His back was turned when Brion fired. The magter had appeared
silently as the shadow of death. They charged without a sound,
running with expressionless faces into the bullets. Two died at
once, curling and folding; the third one fell at Brion's feet. Shot,
pierced, dying, but not yet dead. Leaving a crimson track, it
hunched closer, lifting its knife to Brion. He didn't move. How many
times must you murder a man? Or was it a man? His mind and body
rebelled against the killing, and he was almost ready to accept
death himself, rather than kill again.

Telt's bullets tore through the body and it dropped with grim finality.

"There's your corpse--now get it out of here!" Telt screeched.

Between the