"I read about it in the books from Beforethewars. Mostly people with space-ships have disintegrator guns. They point them at you and you get disintegratored."
"They didn't point it at us till now," pointed out Red with his heart not quite in it.
"I don't care. I'm not hanging around here and getting disintegratored. I'm getting my father."
"Cowardy-cat. Yellow cowardy-cat."
"I don't care. You can call all the names you want, but if you bother them now you'll get disintegratored. You wait and see, and it'll be all your fault."
He made for the narrow spiral stairs that led to the main floor of the barn, stopped at its head, then backed away.
Red's mother was moving up, panting a little with the exertion and smiling a tight smile for the benefit of Slim in his capacity as guest.
"Red! You, Red! Are you up there? Now don't try to hide. I know this is where you're keeping them. Cook saw where you ran with the meat."
Red quavered, "Hello, ma!"
"Now show me those nasty animals? I'm going to see to it that you get rid of them right away."