The view shifted as Rhenu's trembling fingers made adjustments, and they glimpsed a black squadron drifting across the moonlit sky. Cruising with a leisurely consciousness of invulnerability, in the knowledge that the victims were helpless to maneuver, sitting ducks to be blasted at will.
"Keep on scanning!" snapped Relez, but his face was ashen as he saw his dreams crumbling.
Dunu was incredulously checking the anti-ionization generator. "There's nothing wrong here," he reported. But the screen showed scene after scene of a carnival of destruction. The night sky was full of buzzards, flying low, playing their search-lights on the desert and raining gas and explosives on everything that lived. It was the buzzards' moment to strike for dominance and they were making the most of it.
Dunu said frozenly, "They must have been warned by their kin on the coast, and have managed to develop an engine with a hotpoint ignition system."
Relez muttered, looking suddenly old and weary, "It's too bad. The people with the highest technical ingenuity—but their motivation seems to be insane hate of everything unlike them."
"I told you so," Ladna said bitterly.
Torcred had no ears for philosophy; he had seen enough of the murder going on out there. He bounded to his feet and his knife flashed in his hand.
"One side!" he snarled at the recoiling Dunu. "I'm going to smash that machine and give the rest of us a chance!"
But Relez had stepped between him and the generator. The color returned to his bearded features as he faced the threatening blade.