When he was with them, Plekhanov rubbed his hand nervously over heavy lips. He rumbled, "The cavalry, eh? Listen, Hawkins, get back there and dust them. Use the gas."
The pilot said slowly, "I have four bullet holes in my wings."
"Bullet holes!" Joe Chessman snapped.
Hawkins turned to him. "By the looks of things, MacBride's whole unit has gone over to the rebels. Complete with their double-barreled muskets. A full thousand of them."
Watson looked frigidly at Leonid Plekhanov. "You insisted on issuing guns to men we weren't sure of."
Plekhanov grumbled, "Confound it, don't use that tone of voice with me. We have to arm our men, don't we?"
Watson said, "Yes, but our still comparatively few advanced weapons shouldn't go into the hands of anybody but trusted citizens of the State, certainly not to a bunch of mercenaries. The only ones we can really trust even among the Tulans, are those that were kids when we first took over. The one's we've had time to indoctrinate."
"The mistake's made. It's too late now," Plekhanov said. "Hawkins go back and dust those cavalrymen as they come through the pass."
Reif said, "It was a mistake, too, to allow them the secret of the crossbow."
Plekhanov roared, "I didn't allow them anything. Once the crossbow was introduced it was just a matter of time before its method of construction got to the enemy."