Only the four who were carrying the hammock
stood their ground. But the scout, having told them to deposit their
burden under the shelter of an overhanging ledge of rock, waved them
to join their fellows. Until that menace in the sky was beaten, they
dare not travel overland.
Was it still after him alone, hunting him by some mysterious built-in
sense as it had overseas? He could see it now, moving in circles back
and forth across the gorge, probably ready to dive on any prey
venturing into the open.
Had it not been for the stranger, Dalgard could have taken to the
water almost as quickly and easily as his companions. But they could
not float the pilot down the stream, thus dissolving the thick coating
of gel which was healing his terrible flash burns. And Those Others,
were they following the trail of their mechanical hound as they had
before?
Dalgard sent out questing tendrils of thought. Nowhere did he
encounter the flashes which announced the proximity of Those Others.
No, it would appear that they had unleashed the hound to do what
damage it could, perhaps to serve them as a marker for a future
counterattack.
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