"There were forty-four at their bloody laager when the drone overflew 'em," Ortnahme continued, looking straight at the pickup in the car's multi-function display."Some'll be dead lined,twenty percent given what passes fer Yokel maintenance."
His fingers rose into the tiny field-of-view, ticking off the third point: "Some more drop out on the route march to block us when they've finl'ly get the lead out. So, say thirty-five max, maybe thirty."
"And,"said Cooter's voice in the enfolding electronic tendrils of June Ranson's mind, "there's no bloody way—"
"—that those bastards're friendly," Cooter snapped at the hologram display beside his tribarrel while Dick Suilin shivered on the ribbed plastic crates of ammunition lining the interior of the fighting compartment.
At the signal to halt in dispersed order for council,
"Look, just 'cause they sat out the last couple days—" argued a voice that had spoken earlier, not one that the reporter recognized.
The net wasn't wide open,as Suilin first thought.The computer—theAI—controlling the discussion cut off whoever was talking the instant someone higher in the hierarchy began to speak.
"There was
Suilin's face was turned slightly away from the display. There was probably a way to magnify the images through his helmet visor, but he didn't much care.
He felt awful, as though he were in the midst of a bad bout of flu. Despite his chills, his throat felt parched. He gestured toward the cooler on which Gale sat.
The veteran shook his head, then nodded in explanation toward the display.
"Later," he said in a husky whisper that presumably wouldn't carry to the pickup. He tossed Suilin another Wide-awake. "You're on the down side. No sweat. You'll get used t'it."
"Via, still wouldn't mind havin' the help," muttered a voice from the display. "
The cone sent needles of delicious ice up the throat vein to which Suilin applied it. Gray fog cleared from his eyes. The holographic display sprang into focus, though the figures in it were featurelessly small.
