Their boat fluttered down the kilometers. Steel's fortifications were clearly visible even in the natural view: the rough polygon that guarded the refugee ship, the much larger structure that rambled across an island several kilometers westward. I wonder if this is how my Father's castle looked to the Qeng Ho landers? Those walls were high and unsloping. Clearly the Tines had had no idea of gunpowder till Ravna had clued them to it. The valley south of the castle was a blot of dark smoke smoothly streaming toward the sea. Even without data enhancement,, he could see hot spots,
mbt habari sale, fringes of orange edging the black. "You're at two thousand meters," came Ravna's voice. "Jefri says he can see you." "Patch me through to them." "I will try,
mbt lami civiar, Sir Pham." Blueshell fiddled, his lack of attention spinning the boat through a complete loop. Pham had seen falling leaves with more control. A child's piping voice: "A-are you okay? Don't crash!" And then the Steel pack's hybrid of Ravna and the kid: "South to go,
mbt chapa birch! South to go,
复件 (11) air max! Use fire gun. Burn them quick." Blueshell was entirely too cooperative to this direction. He had them down in the smoke already. For seconds they were flying blind. A break in the smoke showed the hillside less than two hundred meters off, coming up fast. Before Pham could curse at Blueshell, the Rider had turned them around and floated the boat into clearer air. Then he pitched over so they might see directly down. After thirty weeks of talk and planning, Pham had his first glimpse of the Tines. Even from here, it was obvious they were different from any sophonts Pham had encountered: Clusters of four or five or six members hung together so close they seemed a single spiderlike being. And each pack stood separated from the others by ten or fifteen meters. A cannon flashed in the murk. The pack crewing it moved like a single,
复件 (37) air max1, coordinated hand to rock the barrel back and ram another charge down the muzzle. "But if these are the enemy, Sir Pham, where did they get the guns?" "They stole 'em." But muzzle loaders? He didn't have time to pursue the thought. "You're right over them, Pham! I can see you in and out of the smoke. You're drifting south at fifteen meters per second, losing altitude." It was the kid, speaking with his usual incredible precision. "Kill them! Kill them!" Pham wriggled out of his restraints and crawled back to the hatch where they had mounted his beam gun. It was about the only thing salvaged from the workshop fire, but by God this was something he could operate. "Keep us steady, Blueshell. Bounce me around and I'll fry you as likely as anything!" He pushed open the hatch, and gagged on spicy smoke. Then Blueshell's agravs wafted them into a clear space and Pham lined the beamer down the ranks of packfolk. Originally Woodcarver had demanded Johanna stay at the base camp. Johanna's response had been explosive. Even now the girl was a little surprised at herself. Not since the first days on Tines world had she come so close to attacking a pack. No way was anyone going to keep her from finding out about Jefri. In the end they had compromised: Johanna would accept Pilgrim as her guard. She could follow the army into the field, as long as she obeyed his direction. Johanna looked up through the drifting smoke. Damn. Pilgrim was always such a carefree joker. By his own telling, he had gotten himself killed over and over again through the years. And now he wouldn't even let her up to Scrupilo's cannons. The two of them paced across a terrace in the hillside.
mbt chapa birch
Linear Mode
