And it seemed that the warrior had developed a hearty
respect for the Terran arm during the past few minutes, for he slipped
his weapon back to the crook of his arm, as if he did not wish Raf to
guess he had used it to threaten.
The pilot had no idea what to do now. He did not wish to return to the
storehouse. And he believed that the alien was not going to let him go
off alone. The ferocity of the creatures now heaped about them had
been sobering, an effective warning against venturing alone in these
underground ways.
His dilemma was solved by the entrance of a party of aliens from
another doorway. They stopped short at the sight of the battlefield,
and their leader descended upon the surviving scout for an
explanation, which was made with gestures Raf was able to translate in
part.
The alien had been far down one of the neighboring corridors with his
dead companion when they had been tracked by the pack and had managed
to reach this point before they were attacked. For some reason Raf
could not understand, the aliens had preferred to flee rather than to
face the menace of the hunters.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194