At a barked order from the officer, two of the others came forward and
tugged at the creature's mangled head, which had been freed from the
serpent neck, rolling it over to expose the underparts. There was a
broad tear there in the flesh, but Raf could see little difference
between it and those left by the feasters. However the officer,
holding a strip of cloth over his nose, bent stiffly above it for a
closer look and then made some statement which sent his command into a
babbling clamor.
Four of the lower ranks separated from the group and, with their hand
weapons at alert, swung into action, retracing the way back toward the
arena. It looked to Raf as if they now expected an attack from that
direction.
Under a volley of orders the rest went back to the storeroom, and the
officer, noting that Raf still lingered, waved him impatiently after
them.
Inside the men spread out, going from shelf to table, selecting things
with a speed which suggested that they had been rehearsed in this task
and had only a limited time in which to accomplish it. Some took piles
of boxes or other containers which were so light that they could
manage a half-dozen in an armload, while two or three others struggled
pantingly to move a single piece of weird machinery from its bed to
the wheeled trolley they had brought.
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