Dick Suilin was looking over his shoulder toward the bow of
The gout of stripped atoms lasted only a fraction of a second.
The Yokel tank, its cannon nodding for further prey, squealed past the wreckage.
Suilin's tribarrel was still pointed to cover the car's rear quadrant. Cooter's burst splashed upward from the tank's glacis plate, blasting collops from the sheath and ceramic core.
Before the tribarrel could penetrate the armor at its point of greatest thickness, the tank's 60mm gun cracked out a three-round clip. Dick Suilin's world went red with a crash that struck him like a falling anvil.
The impact knocked him forward. He couldn't hear anything. The fighting compartment was brighter, because cannon shells had blown away the splinter shield overhead. The sun streamed down past the bare poles of plasma-withered trees.
The ready light over his tribarrel's trigger no longer glowed green. Suilin rotated the switch the way Gale had demonstrated a lifetime earlier. The metal felt cool on his fingertips.
The cannon's muzzle began to recoil behind a soundless yellow flash.
Steel blazed, sucked inward, and blew apart like a bomb as the tank's ready ammunition detonated.
Suilin's tribarrel stopped firing. His thumbs were still locked on the trigger. A stream of congealed plastic drooled out of the ejection port. The molten cases had built up until they jammed the system.
The hull of the vehicle Dick Suilin had destroyed was burning brightly.Another tank crawled around it. The Consie on the second tank's turret was mouthing orders down the open hatch.
The long cannon swung toward
Lieutenant Cooter rose to his hands and knees on the floor of the fighting compartment.His helmet was gone.There was a streak of blood across the sweat darkened blond of his hair. He shook himself like a bear surrounded by dogs.
