Starquake.pdf

exploded as the antimatter bombs in his stuffed pouches went off in a gigantic explosion. The remains of
the glide-car slid under the plates of the still advancing Flow Slow.
A dazed Taker wiggled out from under her dead Swift, ordered a warrior off his mount, and was pulling
out a new whip-sword from her weapons pouch when Attila arrived.
"Only a miracle can save us now," said Crust-Crawler.
Suddenly a cry of anguish arose from the advancing army. The cry was repeated by some of the friendly
clan warriors nearby.
"Attila and his warriors are pulling in their eye-balls," Dented-Shield observed in bewilderment.
"It's too bright!" Letter-Reader shouted, pulling in three of his eyes.
"What's too bright?" asked Crust-Crawler.
"It's an ultra-red beacon from the center of the Eyes of Bright. It makes my pink eyes ache."
"The humans have turned on their laser!" Crust-Crawler exclaimed.
"Most of the Horde have only a few eyes up," said Dented-Shield. "They are having trouble controlling
their riding-Swifts."
The Taker pulled in her speckled eyes and looked out with her two common eyes. She had to sweep
them back and forth to find out what was going on around her.
"Stop that light!!!" Attila roared, all of his eyes under their flaps. He had been proud that none of his eyes
were common, though it meant that he could never read the small writing on a scroll.
Both the Taker's and Attila's riding Swifts were struck by slicer-gliders and stopped to tend their
wounds. The ultra-red light glared on.
"These stupid Swifts are useless," Attila shouted. He drew his three limber-swords and slid down the
back of his Swift, the flickering swords protecting his flanks from unseen enemies as he tried to peer out
from under his eyeflaps at the glaring hostileness. The Taker slid down to stand beside her leader.
A screaming shriek passed by one side of them, then another seemed to pass under them. It was only
after the tiny missile with the supersharp vertical blades had passed that the Taker realized her tread was
slippery and the muscles didn't work well anymore. Attila screamed again and leaned his small muscular
body against hers as he tried to lift his tread from the torture of another slicer-glider.
The riding-Swifts were easy to kill, Crust-Crawler recalled later. Without their riders to protect them,
they were easy targets for a positron beam. The speckled warriors were tougher, even though they were
mostly blind; for once on the crust, they could sense an enemy coming through their tread and most of
them had one or more common eyes to see with. Attila, however, had none.
The battle grew old, but the ultra-red light from above glared on and on.
"Will it never end!" shouted Attila, his limber-swords flickering about him in an interwoven shield. The
Taker had moved away from him to avoid the blades.