"James C. Glass - Shanji" - читать интересную книгу автора (Glass James C)

occupation of their lands.

The flyer had made a great circle, and was now north of her, engine throbbing as the pilot cut back
power for the return descent to the valley. Toregene sat up and pushed on the woven-needle roof of the
spider-trap, raising it a half-meter on silent hinges, and staking it open on the side overlooking the valley.
She got up on her knees, and looked out in time to see the flyer descending into the valley to a landing
place behind a cluster of pre-fab buildings. Beyond the buildings stood great earthmovers at the edge of
Tumatsin barley fields, now stubble, with even the gleanings gone to the Emperor's warehouses.

Two men got out of the bubble-canopied craft, and the orange of their auras was a good sign the patrol
had been routine. The men entered one of the buildings there, and immediately the surrounding area was
flooded with light from a dozen panels around the circumference of the encampment. A hundred or more
troopers suddenly strolled there, all heavily armed. Toregene smiled, for there were no auras to be seen
among the many men who magically appeared with the lights. They were merely projected images of
some sort to give the illusion of a heavily guarded camp. Even so, Toregene scanned the area carefully,
especially near the earthmovers poised for the destruction of Tumatsin fields, huge machines with tires the
height of two men, and gleaming blades to level the earth for the Emperor's new living space.

She found two auras by the earthmovers, a third strolling the area around the metal buildings, a fourth
walking the camp perimeter just outside of the light panels. Four troopers guarding the entire camp, at
least two more inside the buildings, and how many more? Four, perhaps eight at most, she guessed. A
single squad of Tumatsin warriors could take the camp and destroy it in a single night.

The thought frightened her, for Temujin would certainly vie for leadership of such an attack, and her
marriage to him was but a week away. Her report could endanger the life of her chosenbahadur before
their love could be formally confirmed or consummated, though they had been together many times.

And for what purpose? Destruction of the earthmovers was at best a delaying action, and retaliation was
certain to follow, as it had against the tiny valleyordu of Dejmat; a dozen Tumatsin murdered by laser fire
for simply refusing to leave the homes of their ancestors.

Tengri-Nayon glowed red near the zenith, the home star from which their ancestors had fled, the distant
companion to yellow Tengri-Khan, which warmed this world of Shanji. The time of closest approach of
the red star was within a generation, completing another two-hundred year cycle. Only once had it
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brought an attacking army daring enough to challenge the iron-fisted Emperor of two thousand years
past. Two thousand years agoтАФa defeat so overwhelming it was alive, yet, in bitter Tumatsin tradition, in
song, and story. In a few years, Tengri-Nayon would be the brightest star in the sky, and the cycle would
be closed again. One more chance, but no more, for Toregene was certain that in another two hundred
years there would be no Tumatsin left to greet their ancestors.

Toregene ducked instinctively as the door to the largest building below her opened, spilling out light.
Four men came out in full battle-dress, carrying rifles, walking through the images of countless troopers to
replace the real men guarding the encampment. Raucous laughter came from the open door, and music.
Toregene quickly revised her estimate of troopers to sixteen, waited until the replaced guards had
entered the building and closed the door again before she crawled out of her spider-trap. She pulled out