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Roberts was becoming aware of an urgent desire to cooperate. If everyone else was feeling it as strongly as he
was, the factions in the city wouldn't last long. But how could he cooperate with somebody who didn't show up?
Just then, as he was wondering what to do next, and wishing the symbiotic computer was handling this instead of
him, a strongly built figure about five feet ten, carrying a rifle in his left hand, strode forward, handed the rifle to
one of a small group of followers, and walked toward Roberts unarmed. This man had a look of intelligence and
intense self-discipline. When he was directly in front of Roberts, he dropped on one knee.
Roberts said, "You rule in the Outer City?"
"I have five to ten per cent of the people behind me. My men are armed. The others aren't."
"Good enough. Do you yield to me, Vaughan of Trasimere  or would you serve the foul traitor Oggbad?"
"I'm for you."
"Then by grace of the power vested in me as suzerain, I create you a Baron of the Duchy of Trasimere, and ruler
of the Outer City, by which I designate that portion of the presently existing city outside this barrier of
entrapments and fanged wire, upward to the limits of the aery realm, and downward to the center of the world.
Let no man raise his hand against you in the Outer City. Rise, Baron. Now, we have no time for the pleasures
which should attend these ceremonies, or for their proper form. Each minute spent here, the foul cause of Oggbad
advances that much the further. Dissension within our ranks must be healed at once, as it serves Oggbad's cause.
Now then, you Baron Kelty, and you, the thinking-machine with rank of Baron, and you, Baron of the Outer
City, listen close.
"What Oggbad will do, we know not. But he vanished to
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the west, and from the west will his attack almost certainly come. Therefore, so far as is possible, post your main
strength to the west, with but light forces toward the other quarters. Hold strong reserves in hand. Fight by craft
and cunning, from hidden places. Oppose stone walls and empty space to Oggbad's attack, so far as it be possible.
Fight him not by majn strength. That I will do, as my strength surpasses his. Seek to pin him, entangle him.
Chisel at his power. When confronted, run, hide, and appear again at his flank. Let his arms fight stone and air,
while your sword seeks his belly.
"Oggbad fights by-"
HammeH's voice interrupted. "Your Gracel Look overhead!"
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Roberts turned toward the ship. "Master of the Ordnance! Bring down those birds!" Roberts turned to his two
wide-eyed human Barons. "Their form is but a physical envelope for Oggbad's purpose. Now it begins."
From the ship, a voice called, "Your Highness, this planet must have crystal on it, and Oggbad has found it! The
guns are enwrangled!"
Roberts grappled blankly with the word 'enwrangled', then turned around, to see the big fusion-guns aimed
generally toward the birds, but apparently unable to aim precisely. The guns were moving in small circles around
their true point of aim, and not one pointed directly at any of the birds.
"Then," said Roberts thinking fast, "it is Oggbad! Well, gentlemen, get your men quickly in hand. Remember,
Oggbad's first onset is the worst. I will shield you as best I may, and in the end we will win, because our cause is
just. Now, get to cover! Quickr
A terrific desire to fight was building up, in Roberts, and, no uoubt, in everyone else around. But only Roberts
and Ham-mell knew that the same angry desire they felt was, in all likelihood, shared by the huge birds.
Suddenly, there was a fierce scream from overhead. Roberts looked up, to see the birds draw in their wings. At
that same instant, he realized that their camouflage was far better than it seemed. He had seen three birds. But
when they began to dive, their green upper feathers came into
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view, and there were nearly a dozen of them. At once a voice, so like Roberts' own amplified voice that he
thought it must be his, roared: "Guards! We'll fight on foot!"
This sounded valiant. It sounded heroic. It just suited the situation, except for one little detail:
There was no one left in the patrol ship.
Hammell already had his sword in one hand and his gun in the other. The patrol ship was already letting off futile
bolts at the birds, its enwrangled guns doing no damage. So far as Roberts knew, there was nothing left in the
ship but a couple of empty suits of battle-armor. Meanwhile, from windows and doors, people were looking at
him, the birds, and the patrol ship to see what would happen next.
Roberts, cursing himself, turned back toward the patrol ship, and braced himself to shout another order.
The patrol ship, somehow sunk deeply as if it were digging its way into the cracking concrete, disgorged from its
hatch an armed man-sized figure in silver armor. Then another, and another, until there were half-a-dozen of
them outside. Since they couldn't be human, they must be roboid, controlled by the symbiotic computer. But
where in the cramped interior, with so much space already taken up by guns and missile storage, was there room
for the fabricating machinery and the stocks of materials? Was the ship so much more advanced than it seemed?
Roberts looked around, hastily gave up trying to find the answer, and roared, 'Have at the fiend!"
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A huge shadow was sweeping over the ground, and now gigantic claws shot toward him. Roberts fired his fusion-
gun, sheared off one of the clawed feet with a savage stroke of his sword, was grappled and knocked backward
by the other, beheaded the bird, and landed in a tangled bloody mass of bone, sinew, and feathers. He pulled
himself free, to find the air suddenly thick with birds of every description fighting the people and each other. A
moment later, carnivorous bats began to arrive, to dive at Roberts' faceplate, bounce off, then cling to his armor,
and squeak their teeth grittily over every bump and joint, in the hope of getting through into the flesh underneath.
The city's loudspeaker system was booming, "Take cover!
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Get to the tunnels! The city is under attack! Get to the tunnels!"
Flying insects were all over the place now. The air was like fog. The screams of the people told of the attacks of
every kind of flying pest known to the planet. It dawned on Roberts that Morrissey had been successful beyond
their wildest dreams. If they weren't careful, they might exterminate the very population they were trying to save.
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XVII. Triumph
The onslaught of another gigantic bird knocked Roberts back into the foam-covered entanglement of wires,
mines, and sharp-edged strips of metal. Something seemed to snap inside him, and in a terrific outburst of anger,
he sliced the bird in half, cut the entangling wires, and settled grimly to the work of slaughter. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]