MICHAEL CRICHTON

COME .5459 .440GO .5378 .404SOUND COMPLEX: ?AWAY.5444.363SOUND COMPLEX: ?HERE.6344 .344SOUND COMPLEX: ?ANGER?BAD .4232 .477Ross stepped away from the computer. “All yours,” she said to Elliot.Munro paced across the compound. This was the worst time. Everyonewaiting, on edge, nerves shot. He would have joked with Kahega and the otherporters, but Ross and-Elliot needed silence for their work. He glanced at Kahega. Kahega pointed tothe sky and rubbed his fingers together. Munro nodded.He had felt it too, the heavy dampness in the air, the almost palpable feeling ofelectrical charge. Rain was coming.That was all they needed, he thought. During the afternoon, there had beenmore booming and distant explosions, whichhe had thought were far-off lightning storms. But the sound was not right;these were sharp, single reports, more like a sonic boom than anything else.Munro had heard them before, and he had an idea about what they meant.He glanced up at the dark cone of Mukenko, and the faint glow of the Devil’sEye. He looked at the crossed green laser beams overhead. And he noticed oneof the beams was moving where it struck foliage in the trees above.At first he thought it was an illusion, that the leaf was moving and not thebeam. But after a moment he was sure: the beam itself was quivering, shifting upand down in the night air.Munro knew this was an ominous development, but it would have to wait untillater; at the moment, there were more pressing concerns. He looked across thecompound at Elliot and Ross bent over their equipment, talking quietly and ingeneral behaving as if they had all the time in the world.227