remarked. "Feel important?You're going to have a big audience."
"Kind of like it better if I were making a personal appearance. Be alot nicer if I could talk to them--and they could see my face."
"They can't let you do that," Don grinned. "You don't look enough likeany of those guys they're supposed to be hunting. Spoil the wholeeffect that way."
Pete looked at him thoughtfully.
"You know, they always tell people to throw their weapons out and comeout with their hands in the air. What would happen if someone took 'emup on it--like the wrong someone--like me, for instance?"
"Good question," Don told him. "Saw a guy come out in one broadcast.Someone vaporized him. No way of telling which direction the spray camefrom, of course. No tracer on the beam." He shrugged.
"Somehow, I don't think it would lead to a long and happy life."
"No." Pete nodded. "I didn't suppose it would." He looked at the longtarget rifle in Don's hands.
"You could have gotten several of them with that, while they weregetting into position, couldn't you?"
"Suppose so," Don nodded. "But I'm saving it for a while. Got an idea,but it's a one-shot and I'll have to wait before I try it." He pausedas a head appeared close to the base of the loud-speaker stand.
"Well, the show's about to start," he added quietly. "Here's the manwith the serenade."
The speaker disintegrated in blazing fury and Pete turned away from theglare, to look back at the house.
"Took your father years to get this place built the way he wanted it,"he remarked. "Shame you're going to have to lose it this way." Heglanced over at his companion.
Don was stretched out in the prone position, his sling tight on hisarm, the rifle extended.
"Yeah," he said. "But maybe we won't lose it--not just yet."
He rolled, forcing his elbow further under the rifle.
"Look, Pete, I think I'll wait till these guys are ready for the lastact, but you better go ahead and take cover. They've committedthemselves now. I'll duck later, if I have to, but I've got an ideathat just might work out."
He laid his cheek against the stock, concentrating on his sights. Thebarrel moved up and down with his breathing, then stopped.
Pete examined him curiously, then looked out of his port.
The projector barrel was moving, to center its lens on target. As Petewatched, the lens barrel swung till he could see the glint of light onthe outer focusing circles. As the rack with its charges started toface him, he moved back, preparing to roll into the narrow slit beneaththe wall.
Now, the lens was pointing directly toward him, its iris beginning towiden. He slid off the ledge.
There was a sudden, snapping explosion near him. He looked up, to seethe lens system disintegrate. The projector suddenly became a blueglare.
Pete watched as the tiny figures of the crew members flew back fromtheir fiercely glowing weapon.
Abruptly, he realized he was in an exposed position. He duckedsideways, away from the opening, and covered his face.
There was a rumbling multiple explosion. Blinding light reflected fromthe walls of the house. A few tiles crashed to the court. Pete caughthis breath again and risked an upward glance.
A tall pillar of flame had grown from the field outside. For longmoments, it stood motionless, searching for a limit to the sky. Then itdarkened. Smoke drifted toward the ranch house and bits of wreckagerained down upon house and field alike. Little puffs of smoke appearedin the sky, close by the still rising cloud.
"Pinwheel," said Don calmly. "That's one Dad couldn't beat if he tried.Wish he'd been around to see it." Suddenly, his forced calm desertedhim.
"Oh, boy," he yelled happily. "Like shooting snakes in a pit." Heshoved his rifle back through the port.
"Try to wreck our house, will you, you bums!"
A figure wobbled up from the field, weapon weaving unsteadily towardthe wall. The rifle snapped viciously and the figure melted back intothe ground.
There was another motion and a sudden spurt of dust followedimmediately after the sound of a shot. The motion ceased.
The sound of the click of the rifle action was loud against the silenceof the scene.
* * * * *
No more figures moved. Bright flames were growing--working toward oneanother, to form a widening lake of flame in the grass. Don sighed andstarted pulling the sling from his arm. Pete stood up, looking at him.
"I'm a little confused," he said slowly. "I thought that weapon ofyours merely threw a solid missile. The way you described it, I thoughtit was just ... well, something like a long-range throwing sling."
He looked out the port again, then pointed.
"But that weapons carrier was shielded. I didn't think you could touchone of those with anything but another inductor."
Don leaned the rifle against the wall.
"That's the way they figured it, too," he remarked. "But they forgotsomething.
"You see, rifles have been obsolete for so long everybody's forgottentheir capabilities. Everybody, that is, except a few crazy hobbyists.And no one ever thinks in terms of long-range missile throwers."
"So?"
"So, I've been watching these clay pigeon shoots of theirs for a longtime. They've had a lot of them on broadcasts, you know. And I noticedthey always operate the same way. Actually ... well, you saw them.They're not too careful." He smiled.
"Remember you remarked that I could have potted a few of them whilethey were getting into position? Only reason I didn't was that I didn'twant to give them a warning." He shoved his hands in his pockets.
"You see, they know they're going to use that projector. The riggedspeaker just makes it look good--as though the blast were necessary andunavoidable. That way, the public is convinced that the whole affair isa heroic battle against evil. See what I mean?
"So, they have everything all set up. Safeties are off. Activators arehot. Everything's lined up so they can look sharp. Snappy operation."
He shook his head with a smile. "But actually, they're a littleoverconfident. Their field screen will stop any heat ray. No khroalcharge can get through--it'd get damped. The screen will ground out aNerne-Herzfeld couple, and no bunch of fugitives is going to be luggingan inductor around with them. So there can't be any counter-batteryfire. Result? The projector crew feels perfectly safe."
His smile widened. "But that isn't enough. They want to be comfortable,too. It's hot inside a deflector screen and they'd get their uniformsall sweaty and out of press. Besides, the screen draws a lot of powerand they'd have to rev up their motor. The noise would make it roughfor the sound crew. Catch?"
Pete moved his head. "I begin to get the idea," he said. "The inductorsare real touchy when they're armed. They can arc over and flare back ina real hurry if things get in their fields. That's why the safetylens--and the iris."
"Sure." Don nodded. "Sure it is. And it keeps the beam tube nice andunobstructed. Dry, too. As I said, they're pretty safe. Just likepigeon hunters." He looked out at the field.
"Sort of funny how things can add up," he added. "Here's a guy whomakes all sorts of plans. He's got everything figured out and tied upwith a ribbon. He's got the whole Galactic Federation standing around,just watching. Not a thing they can do to him legally. And he's got allOredan in his pocket--all but one family and a few odd yokels hedoesn't even worry about. So he's about to fix the family.
"Then someone else starts planning. And some little guy goes and slipsa little chunk of fast moving lead down a lens barrel that nobody eventhought of protecting. And everything goes wrong. All kinds of thingshappen. Like investigating patrols ordered in by the Stellar Guard. Andconclaves." He grinned and looked at the sky to the west.
"So," he added, "a few little things add up. One family. One littlepiece of lead. One house that didn't get blown up. One flight of----"He let his voice trail off and looked at his watch.
"Wonder where those patrol ships are. They should be in plain sight bythi
s time, diving down the eastern slope."
He narrowed his eyes, searching the empty western sky.
* * * * *
Pete looked around the courtyard. Broken tiles littered the ground.Here and there, lay bricks and bits of mortar. Some freak of backblasthad torn a shutter off the house and it lay brokenly a few feet fromhim. He looked back toward the house.
One corner of the roof had been shattered and he could see broken roofbeams. A cornice from the wall had crashed into the house front