Lane jumped to the window, looked quickly, sprang back. Cybrain pumped orders to his nervous system.
"Blaster cannon," he said. "But just one. Gotcha, cybrain. I can beat that."
He picked up the black box that generated his protective screen. Snapping it open with thumb-pressure, he turned a small dial. Then he waited.
Again an enormous, brain-shattering concussion.
Again Lane and Gerri were thrown to the floor. But this time there was a second explosion and a blinding flash from below.
Lane laughed boyishly and ran to the window.
"Look!" he called to Gerri.
There was a huge gap in the crowd below. The pavement was blackened and shattered to rubble. In and around the open space sprawled dozens of tiny black figures, not moving.
"Backfire," said Lane. "I set the screen to throw their blaster beam right back at them."