“If we can. Tell me your present situation.”
“My suit… I got a small puncture—Had to pump the leg full of water and freeze it. Now my leg’s dead. I can’t last much longer.”
“The situation, Sawyer, the situation! Not your aches and pains.”
The vibrations continued, but Grumbler screened them out for a time. There was rumbling fury on an Earthlit hill.
It sat with its engines idling, listening to the distant movements of the enemy to the south. At the foot of the hill lay the pain perimeter; even upon the hilltop, it felt the faint twinges of warning that issued from the lower, thirty kilometers to the rear at the center of the world. It was in communion with the tower. If it ventured beyond the perimeter, the communion would slip out-of-phase, and there would be blinding pain and detonation.
The enemy was moving more slowly now, creeping north across the demiworld. It would be easy to destroy the enemy at once, if only the supply of rocket missiles were not depleted. The range of the magnapult hurler was only twenty-five kilometers. The small spitters would reach, but their accuracy was close to zero at such range. It would have to wait for the enemy to come closer. It nursed a brooding fury on the hill.
“ Listen, Sawyer, if Grumbler’s I.F.F. isn’t working, why hasn’t he already fired on this runabout?”
“That’s what sucked us in too, colonel. We came into zone Red and nothing happened. Either he’s out of long-range ammo, or he’s getting cagey, or both. Probably both.”
“Mmmp! Then we’d better park here at id figure something out.”
“Listen … there’s only one thing you can do. Call for a telecontrolled missile from the Base.”