the stations he wanted and tried to
follow the course of the attack.

Very quickly he realized this was something out of the ordinary. In some
way, no one made it clear, a section of the perimeter had been broken
through and emergency defenses had to be thrown up to encapsulate it.
Kerk seemed to be in charge, at least he was the only one with an
override transmitter. He used it for general commands. The many, tiny
images faded and his face appeared on top of them, filling the entire
screen.

"All perimeter stations send twenty-five per cent of your complement to
Area Twelve."

The small images reappeared and the babble increased, red lights
flickering from face to face.

"... Abandon the first floor, acid bombs can't reach."

"If we hold we'll be cut off, but salient is past us on the west flank.
Request support."

"DON'T MERVV ... IT'S USELESS!"

"... And the napalm tanks are almost gone. Orders?"

"The truck is still there, get it to the supply warehouse, you'll find
replacements ..."

* * * * *

Out of the welter of talk, only the last two fragments made any sense.
Jason had noticed the signs below when he came in. The first two floors
of the building below him were jammed with military supplies. This was
his chance to get into the act.

Just sitting and watching was frustrating. Particularly when it was a
desperate emergency. He didn't overvalue his worth, but he was sure
there was always room for another gun.

By the time he had dragged himself down to the street level a
turbo-truck had slammed to a stop in front of the loading platform. Two
Pyrrans were rolling out drums of napalm with reckless disregard for
their own safety. Jason didn't dare enter that maelstrom of rolling
metal. He found he could be of use tugging the heavy drums into position
on the truck while the others rolled them up. They accepted his aid
without acknowledgment.

It was exhausting, sweaty work, hauling the leaden drums into place
against the heavy gravity. After a minute Jason worked by touch through
a red haze of hammering blood. He realized the job was done only when
the truck suddenly leaped forward and he was thrown to the floor. He lay
there, his chest heaving. As the driver hurled the heavy vehicle along,
all Jason could do was bounce around in the bottom. He could see well
enough, but was still gasping for breath when they braked at the
fighting zone.

To Jason, it was a scene of