"They're up to something," said Fetzer. "Let's not wait anymore."
The gates of one of the administration training buildings swung open, and the Goolies poured out, driven and prodded by their attendants. They came straight toward the clearing, running in weird, disjointed strides or bounding along on footless stumps of legs. Monstrous heads rolled loosely, snapping from shoulder to shoulder, from chest to back. Tiny, hairless, eyeless heads were fixed and rigid. Slack mouths gaped and drooled. Lipless mouths bared perpetual smiles. Dwarfed, naked creatures bumped against the knees of eight-foot giants.
It was an unbelievable synthesis of every nightmare since time began.
The freckled boy wrapped his arms around Lucifer's neck. His small body shuddered.
Lucifer felt his own stomach twist with the remembered horror, but he held fast to reason. The Goolies were in themselves no danger. It was only their psychological effect. Huth was shrewd. He knew well the Earth framework of prejudice. If they could break up the psi focus, his own men could crash in behind them.
Confirming this line of reason, Huth's men were forming again on the outskirts of the compound.
"Don't let them reach the clearing!" he told Fetzer.
Fetzer waved his signal. Though shaken, the adults, too, responded to reason. They tried to focus. Children pressed against their legs, sobbing.
A focus seemed to form, but weakly. It was like an exhausted, distraught athlete trying to pull himself together.
The Goolies faltered, appeared to lose some momentum and balance. The attendants drove them forward again. They came on as though wading against a strong current.