"You would talk—then talk!" Menlik ordered.
This time Travis outlined events with an absence of word embroidery. "Kaydessa leads the Reds into a trap we have set beyond the peaks—four of them ride with her. How many now remain in the ship near the settlement?"
"There are at least two in the flyer, perhaps eight more in the ship. But there is no getting at them in there."
"No?" Travis laughed softly, shifted the weapon on his arm. "Do you not think that this will crack the shell of that nut so that we can get at the meat?"
Menlik's eyes flickered to the left, to the tree which was no longer a tree but a thin deposit of ash on seared ground.
"They can control us with the caller as they did before. If we go up against them, then we are once more gathered into their net—before we reach their ship."
"That is true for you of the Horde; it does not affect the People," Travis returned. "And suppose we burn out their machines? Then will you not be free?"
"To burn up a tree? Lightning from the skies can do that."
"Can lightning," Buck asked softly, "also make rock as sand of the river?"
Menlik's eyes turned to the second example of the alien weapon's power.