The young man bowed his head to Blade. "I am sorry, Mazda, that I took from you the honor of being first. It was rightly-"

"Never mind honors now, Zeron," said Blade sharply. "Let's get to work."

As Blade spoke the turret's turning swung the ray-tube toward them and over them. Clinging to the tube was a young woman. She was pounding wedges into the opening in the turret from which the tube jutted. As the turret's turning carried her out of sight, hammers sounded forward. The two men with the most dangerous a.s.signment were at work, driving heavy plugs into the holes from which the tentacles emerged. If they didn't work fast, they would be the first to die.

Blade took his own advice and pulled a wedge from his pouch. He slid it into the gap between the turret's base and the ring on which it revolved, pushed on it hard, then grabbed the hammer and swung it with both bands. Whang! Whang! Whang! Each blow sent a tingling through Blade's hands and arms and a vibration through the metal under his feet.

Whang! Whang! Whang! Zeron was doing the same thing. The machines might have enormous power stored in them. But how much of that power could they feed to the motors that turned the turrets, extended the tentacles, maneuvered the legs? If that power was not enough to overcome the resistance of a dozen or so teksin wedges swiftly driven into place by fighters of the people, it would be the end for one of the machines' prime weapons.

From underneath the machine came more hammering. Someone was driving wedges into the joints of one of the legs. A machine could not get up and fly away unless all four legs were retracted. Now someone was busily at work making sure that at least one leg on this machine would never retract.

Blade rammed in a second wedge and went to work with the hammer. Then a third. Then a fourth. By the time the fourth wedge was in place he was streaming with sweat. His bare chest and arms were as wet as if he had just climbed out of the lake. But the turret was as thoroughly immobilized as if it had been seated in concrete.

The young woman on the tube sprang lightly to the ground. Blade recognized Chars. As she did so there was a whooosh and flickering orange yellow flame suddenly enveloped the tube. Greasy black smoke streamed up into the sky.

Chara smiled at Blade. "Burns good, doesn't it?" She had wrapped a layer of cloth soaked in teksin oil around the raytube, then set it on fire. The burning cloth raised the temperature inside the tube high enough to ruin the sensitive electronic equipment.

Something went pfffffssssshsssssttttt!-like the biggest of all cats-from underneath the machine. The machine shivered, then sagged down at one corner. The man who had been working on the legs scrambled hastily out from under. His face was black with smoke and his hair and eyebrows a good deal skimpier than they had been before. His teeth flashed white as he grinned.

"It tried to pull up the leg. But I think something went wrong with the little machine for the leg. Am I right, Mazda?"

"It seems like it."

Blade hung his hammer on his belt and climbed on top of the turret to get a better view. He nearly shouted out loud as he saw a tentacle flashing around the other machine they had attacked. Then he saw that the turret was motionless, the ray-tube a smoking, half-melted ma.s.s, and not one but two legs jammed and buckled. One of the tentacles had pushed out its wedge, but that was all. The six members of the attacking team were standing back at a safe distance, watching the deadly tentacle clutch at nothing but empty air.

A hundred yards away stood the third machine of the group, now moving slowly around on its legs in a small circle. The tentacles were still retracted but the turret was swinging quickly back and forth through a half-circle that faced the two captured machines. Occasionally the third machine sounded its siren.

Apparently the machine couldn't make up its programmed mind what was happening and what it should do about it. There was no reason to give the machine the time it needed. Blade motioned his third team forward at a run. As they pa.s.sed down between the two captured machines, Zeron sprang down to join them. Apparently the young man hadn't had enough fighting for one day!

The third team was halfway to the third machine when it suddenly exploded into action. All four legs snapped up into its belly with a loud clang. At the same moment the machine leaped into the air, wobbling slightly. The turret swung to aim the ray-tube at the approaching people.

Purple flame darted from the rising machine. Blade heard men and women alike screaming in surprise and terror. The memories went too deep-always before the purple ray had brought death wherever it touched. For a moment the seven running figures were lost in the purple glare. Then it faded, and the seven ran on, not missing a step. The screams turned into shouts and cheers.

They reached the spot where the machine had been and looked upward to where it hovered some thirty feet above them. If it would just drop a bit lower- The tentacles! There they were, flicking out of the front of the machine. Blade opened his mouth to shout at the seven to scatter, but they were doing that before he could even take in a deep breath. Against a war machine armed, alert, and out of reach, what else was there to do? There hadn't been any explosives ready for the expedition.

The machine seemed to stoop toward the ground, like a hawk sighting a mouse. Two tentacles flashed through the air. Their tips curled around the waist and legs of a running man. It was Zeron, the same Zeron who had wanted to see more fighting, Zeron who had been too slow or too bold to get beyond the machine's reach: The tentacles tightened. Zeron screamed, a long, rasping, utterly horrible scream, a raw-throated shrieking rejection of a world that was letting this happen to him and of the pain that seemed to be tearing him apart.

A moment later he was torn apart. One tentacle snapped one way, one the other. With a gruesome craaaak Zeron's body tore apart at the waist in a shower of blood and fragments of bone and internal organs. The two tentacles rose high into the air, as if brandishing their horrid trophies. Then they unclasped and the two halves of Zeron's body fell down to land with small puffs of dust.

That machine was going on the hunt, thought Blade. It was time for all of them to scatter, and fast.

Before he could give any orders, a second war machine swept into sight from behind the towers of Miros. It was a hundred feet off the ground and moving at well over a hundred miles an hour.

This time people did start scattering, as fast as their legs would cover ground and before Blade could even think of giving an order. Blade himself leaped down off the turret and started running. There was absolutely nothing else to do, except run so far and fast that the machines would lose interest. Sooner or later they would. They always did. But how many of the fighters of the expedition would still be alive by that time?

Then Blade stopped almost in mid-stride, to turn and stare. The second machine was not plunging down on the scattering fugitives. Instead it was circling the first one. The first one seemed to be standing still in the air, its tentacles drooping listlessly.

Then the second machine stood on end and leaped for the sky. It dwindled with a rush and roar of air into something small and gleaming in the sky nearly a mile above. Then it plunged down on the first machine. It must have been doing more than three hundred miles an hour when it plummeted out of the sky and smashed into the first machine.

Blade went flat on the ground, hands clasped over his face, not sure that this mechanical lunacy wouldn't be as deadly to his people as the two machines could have been. If the Looters' machines were atomic-powered and these two exploded, there wouldn't be much left of the expedition or the city of Miros.

But there was no explosion. There was only an earsplitting metallic crash like the biggest of all automobile collisions, as a hundred tons of metal slammed violently together. Blue smoke and sparks filled the sky as high-powered electrical equipment died spectacularly. Then there was an earthshaking thud as the two wrecks plummeted to the ground, followed by the pattering of odd bits and pieces raining out of the sky.

Blade waited until the rain had stopped before getting slowly to his feet. He had picked up several small burns from hot bits of metal. Others lay smoldering in the gra.s.s. The two war machines lay where they had fallen, mangled and blackened hulks.

He heard someone calling his name and turned to see Anyara running toward him from the direction of the lake.

Her face was covered with sweat-caked dust but her grin spread clear across her face.

"Mazda, it was incredible. We took the two we attacked, then the other one took off. For a moment we thought it was going to attack us, but it went out of sight behind the city. We didn't lose anyone, not anyone at all. I was bringing my people over to join yours when we saw the second machine come out again. I didn't believe for a moment that they would do what they did, I couldn't believe it!" She reached Blade and embraced him wildly.

Blade kissed her, then realized that he was swaying on his feet from the sudden release of tension. His throat was so dry that he had to take a drink from his water bottle before he could speak.

"Yes, I was surprised too. But I think I know what happened. The computers-the thinking machine-that guide the war machines sometimes go-mad-when they don't understand a situation."

Anyara laughed. "Some thinking machines! They certainly didn't think very well today, did they?"

"No," said Blade. "At least not today."

Chapter 17.

Blade knew that the Looter machines had made mistakes that day which they probably would not make again. n.o.body else seemed to care about this. Everyone was feeling too good. After a few hours Blade gave up trying to remind them of unpleasant possibilities. It didn't matter that much for now, anyway, as long as they didn't get sloppy in keeping the guards and scouts posted.

Besides, they had done well, and it had really been a memorable victory. Six Looter machines gone-four crippled and captured in usable condition, two smashed to twisted wreckage by the errors of their own computers. Only one of the people dead, and only a few minor injuries. They had won a battle, not a war. But they had won, and winning had lowered the Looters' strength a good deal and raised the spirits of the people even more.

Blade made a quick round of the sentries and scouts on horseback. Then he dismounted, stripped, and joined those who were celebrating the victory in the lake. He heard several people wishing there was some beer. But everybody was already feeling too happy to need any.

The celebration went on for a good many hours, until night fell on the expedition's camp. Then those who had guard duty took up their posts. Those who didn't fell asleep with dreams of bigger and better victories to come.

Originally Blade planned to withdraw after the first successful encounter with the Looters. But they had been so successful that he decided on a new plan. They would stay in and around Miros and wait for the next wave of Looters to move in. Blade was sure there would be another one. If it was weak or badly commanded, the people would fight. If it was strong and well commanded, they could disperse and lay ambushes.

Some of the towers of the city were more than a quarter of a mile high, offering a magnificent view over the plain. The lake would provide water, some of the bushes bore fruit and berries, and the neighborhood seemed rich in game for the people and gra.s.s for the horses. They could sit almost in the lap of luxury and wait for the Looters to appear.

That optimistic plan left out a few things, of course. Blade mentioned some of them to Anyara.

"If they use one of the superbombs that make the flat topped clouds, they can wipe out all of us. The only way we could avoid that is to disperse so far that we could not attack effectively."

"What about their rockets?"

"I am less afraid of those. They are powerful, I admit, and they will do a great deal of damage if we let them. But I doubt if the Looters bring very many of them from their homeland. They probably cannot afford to fire them off the way we fire arrows. If we do not give them a tempting target, I doubt that we will have much to fear from them. I have even been thinking of ways of attacking the big machines, the ones that carry the rockets and the red rays."

"That is something you did not speak of before."

"I did not expect that we would have any more of the smaller war machines to use against the Looters. But we do."

Blade had discovered that the legs of the captured machines could be retracted manually by someone cranking a wheel inside the cabin. After that, all four of the captured machines could move and fly almost as well as before. Blade, however, was the only one who could fly a Looter machine.

"Their weapons do not work, Mazda, and I do not see how we are going to repair them."

"We are not. But I do not think we will need the weapons if my plans work."

The next day Blade spent several hours maneuvering one of the captured machines around the streets of Miros. After that, he spent the rest of the day and all of the next working with twelve particularly good fighters from the expedition. When he finished that, he told Anyara that he had plans ready for meeting any of the big Looter machines.

"But I do not know how much chance I have of coming out of that battle alive," he added.

"When will you know that, Mazda?" said Anyara, her face pale. "It is not good to think of the death of Mazda, even in victory."

Blade smiled grimly. "It may happen, Anyara, whether you find it pleasant to think about or not. Accept that fact. As for when we shall know if I am going to live or not-we shall know that the next time the Looters come."

The Looters did not come during the rest of that week. The roof of the highest building in Miros was manned day and night by particularly keen-sighted fighters. They kept an endless watch over the plain, waiting for the flash and flicker of metal to break the even line of the distant horizon.

It never did.

Blade used the unexpected gift of time to start training several volunteers in the basics of piloting a Looter war machine. It was easy enough to learn, provided you weren't paralyzed by fear of the power and weapons you had at your command.

This was hard for the younger people to do. They had never controlled anything more powerful than a team of plow-horses. But some of them controlled their fear well enough to learn faster than Blade expected.

Chara turned out to be the best of these new pilots. Blade gave her the job of rescuing the watchers from the top of the tower when the fighting started. After that she would ride with him as a spare pilot for his own machine.

The days ran on into the second week. Many of the people were openly wondering if the Looters had lost their courage. Even Anyara could not help thinking out loud.

"They sent six machines against Miros, and it must seem as though they have all sailed away to another world in the sky. Those six are gone. This is not something that has ever happened to them before. Are they brave enough to try again?"

"I don't think their courage has that much to do with it," was all Blade would say. In his own mind, he was far less certain. The empty horizon perhaps did mean that the Looters were stunned by the disappearance of the six machines, stunned and paralyzed.

It could also mean that they had finally realized a deadly enemy was lurking somewhere out there, an enemy with new skills. They might be busily making plans to send a stronger force against this enemy. Perhaps they were even making plans to come forth themselves, instead of relying on their rugged but fatally inflexible machines.

Yet Blade was sure of one thing. Sooner or later, in one way or another, the Looters would return.

Chapter 18.

Dawn in Miros. The coolness was not yet out of the air and the dew not yet dried from the dust in the empty streets. Blade sat with Chara on the platform of a war machine, in a corner that still lay deep in shadow. Suddenly he heard her suck in breath with a sharp hiss.

"Look-on the tower! The signal!"

Blade raised his eyes to the top of the watchtower. The thick black smoke of burning teksin oil was streaming up into the windless sky.

The Looters had come again.

Chara was already diving for the hatch of the machine. Blade leaped through behind her and took the controls. They rose swiftly, climbing up into the sunlight, up to the top of the tower.

The chief of the sentries met Blade as he sprang out of the machine. "They are half a day's march toward the horizon, Mazda. They are low, and if they move, they move so slowly that we cannot see it."

"How many?"

"We count only six, Mazda. Three of the small war machines, and three of the big ones that are shaped like boxes."

"Nothing else?"

"We have seen nothing else, Mazda. If it had been there, we would have seen it."

"Very good. You've given your signal. Get your people into the machine. We'll drop you off by the horses when we pick up my attack team."

The sentries piled into the cabin of the machine. Blade was the last in. He was keeping a rigidly calm face, but he was not entirely calm inside. Six machines-that was not nearly as strong a force as he had expected. But they were fighting machines only. There were none of the other kinds that would have been part of any force intended to simply move into Miros and start to loot and smash it. The Looters were also standing off at a distance rather than heading straight in.

It looked like a fighting force, sent by someone who expected trouble, and under command of human brains. No, not "human." Call them "live" brains. The Looters were humanoid. But human? That remained to be seen.

Blade suspected that with luck they might see the answer to that question today. Then he put the Looters temporarily out of his mind and concentrated on getting the machine off the roof.

They plunged down to the street and leveled out so low that their pa.s.sing kicked up dust. In minutes they were at the north camp, where Blade had stationed the twelve specially trained fighters.

Blade dropped the machine on its belly with a crunch of rubble underneath and opened the hatch. "Get to your horses and ride out of the city as fast as you can. If you do not hear true word from me or my people by nightfall, we will be dead. Then ride for the lands of the people as fast as you can. Ignore any message that doesn't contain the word 'Zulekia.' "

"Zulekia? The name of your Beloved?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I think that there may be some living Looters with those machines out on the plain. They may use a false message from me to lay a trap for all of you. But they will not know my Beloved's name."

It was obvious that the people did not quite understand. But he was Mazda, and they would obey him.

Now Blade signaled to his attack team. "I want six of you to climb into the machine and ride with us. The other six will ride out of the city with the rest. If I die today, you will return to the lands of the people and help teach others what I have taught you."

All twelve pushed forward, hoping to be among the six. Blade picked out his six by pointing a finger and going, "You-you-you." He stood on the platform until the chosen six were inside and the others had reluctantly joined the rest of the fighters. Then he took several deep breaths and felt his mind and body settle, readying for action. Some of the fighters were still standing around the machine, staring at him. Other more sensible ones were already leading out their horses and mounting up. Blade made a final sweeping farewell gesture to all of them, then climbed through the hatch and pulled it shut behind him.

Blade saw the coming battle as a trap, with himself and the machine as the prime bait. He would have been happier if the attack team had not been in the machine with him. But there was no choice. When the battle was joined, the streets of Miros would be no place for an unprotected human being, no matter how well trained.

Blade headed for the northern edge of the city, toward the Looter force. He wanted to offer them a target that would draw their fire as soon as possible. It was risky, but not half as risky as going into the battle not knowing as much as possible about his enemy.

On the northern edge of the city Blade took the machine behind a medium-tall building and lifted it up several hundred feet. Then he swung it out into the open street. He had a clear view across the plain toward the Looter machines. They showed up plainly on the screens, several miles closer now. He hoped he showed up as plainly on theirs.

A puff of smoke rose from one of the large machines, followed by a long white trail. The trail climbed into the sky as it climbed toward the city. Metal glinted at the head of the trail. Blade held his machine in position.

Chara stared wide-eyed at the screen. "Mazda-aren't you going to-?"