“Perhaps they do not know that there is an atmosphere,” Billy argued, “Maybe they live some place where there is air, and think that they must be prepared to travel through a world where there is no air.”
“G’wan,” Joan snorted slangily. “Do you mean to suggest that they came here from some other world?”
“Probably they came up out of some of the holes in the moon. I have heard it suggested that the moon is hollow, and that there is a possibility of air inside.”
Before Joan could reply to this the battle began. Toplinsky, like a good general, waited until the moon insects were quite close, and then poured seven volleys from repeating rifles into their ranks. The crickets went down by hundreds. The questions as to whether or not their backs were bullet proof was answered.
Just for a second the lines wavered; then there rent the air a loud musical chirp. It went up and down the various lines of cricket soldiers in waves. It was not unpleasant to hear. In fact, it was accompanied by notes. But it was none the less deadly and demoralizing to the colonists, and sent a chill down the backs of the three Americans, safe in their cave retreat.
Toplinsky shouted in his shrillest voice; from far in the rear of the cricket army came an answering call. To the unbounded wonder of both the Americans and the colonists this answer came back in English.
“Surrender, earth men,” it called out in broken but understandable English, “or we will wipe you out, and not leave a single person living.”
Toplinsky’s answer was a shower of lead in the direction of the voice. Again hundreds of crickets fell; again the ranks closed in strong formation and came forward as if there had been no deaths.
“These Things do not fear death,” Joan whispered in awe. “They do not know what it is. They are just big insects.”
They were coming slowly now but surely, treading softly forward as if sneaking up on an enemy. To the observers in the cave it looked as if they were so many cats preparing to jump on a mouse. The colonists fired desperately. Michael, who seemed to be leading one end of the pirate gang, got a small machine gun out of the storehouse, and began to mow them down like a health officer doping flies. Still they came on—seemingly irresistible, holding their sharp prongs outward, and leaping with invisible movements with their small thin legs.