The Time Mercenaries by Philip E. High

Author:Philip E. High [High, Philip E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780426061113
Publisher: Tandem
Published: 1969-01-01T23:00:00+00:00

VIII

LATIN BAY was like a fjord, the green water penetrating almost a mile inland between high, bronze-colored cliffs. At the top of the cliffs was a mixture of plain and forest.

To Cooper, pushing his way cautiously toward the danger spot, the entire scene had a curiously dreamlike quality. The impossible golden grass was almost waist-high and the blue, willow-like trees not only swayed continuously but their leaves made strangely musical yet plaintive sounds in the slight wind.

"How much farther, Dodge?" He still felt uneasy with robots but was glad of this one's company.

The robot, gliding just above the grass, said, "Only a few hundred feet now, sir."

"Thank goodness for that." He glanced quickly left and right to see if the men were keeping correct space and distance. With him, beside the robot, were four heavily armed and—in this heat—highly disgruntled sailors.

They came to a small glade and the robot said, "Here, sir, roughly by that small bush but slightly to the left. "

"I can't see anything."

"It's in the grass, sir. I cannot see it myself but I can perceive the electrical disturbance around it which is increasing, incidentally."

"You mean it's building up to do whatever it's supposed to do?" Cooper was aware that the question was slightly inane but the robot understood.

"Yes, sir, if it's an accumulator device it will blow in about seven minutes, but I don't think it is."

"Why?"

"It would be rather pointless out here."

"That may comfort you, Dodge, but it provides little solace for me. Missiles do go astray, you know."

"True, sir, but I find it more logical to assume that it is a transmitter. If something is attempting to gain a foothold on this continent by stealth, this would be a logical place to choose."

"If it is a transmitter—when?"

"Approximately five minutes, sir."

"I see, right." Cooper strode forward, his long legs carrying him well into the glade. "All right, close up. You, Miller, in that hollow; Townson, behind that bush. Combes—you have the Sten—behind that rock, and don't forget these rounds have been gimmicked. If any of those shots are fired short you'll blow yourself to kingdom come. Sparks, in that clump of trees, and don't fire unless Combes is in trouble; you're there to cover his back."

He paused and drew a deep breath. "Now listen. None of you will use those weapons unless I give the order to fire—is that clear?" He produced his service revolver. "On the order to fire, listen for this. Understood?"

He returned to the robot. "I suppose we'd better find some sort of cover ourselves. How much longer?"

"About two minutes, sir."

To Cooper, it seemed like six years. This was his first taste of action and he could feel the sweat crawling like a multitude of insects down his back. He told himself it was the heat but he knew he was only deceiving himself. Probably why the Old Man had sent him… to gain experience.

To ease the tension, Cooper tried to take an intelligent interest in his surroundings. That bronze rock, for

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