"Phillip Francis Nowlan - Buck Rogers 01 - Armageddon 2419" - читать интересную книгу автора (Nowlan Philip Francis)

though the matter were all settled, and my surprise at my own instant acceptance of the idea, for I had
not consciously thought of her that way before. But we both fell asleep at once.
In the morning we found little time for love making. The practical problem facing us was too great.
Wilma felt that the Wyoming plan must be to rally in the Susquanna territory, but she had her doubts
 about the wisdom of this plan. In my elation at my success in bringing down the Han ship, and my newly
found interest in my charming companion, I had forgotten the ominous fact that the Han ship I had
destroyed must have known the exact location of the Wyoming Works.
This meant, to Wilma's mind, either that the Hans had perfected new instruments as yet unknown to us,
or that somewhere, among the Wyomings or some other nearby
gang, there were traitors. In either contingency, she argued, other Han raids would follow, and since the
Susquannas had a highly developed organization and more than usually productive plants, the next raid
might he expected to strike them.
But at any rate it was clearly our business to get in touch with the other fugitives as quickly as
possible, soin spite of muscles that were sore from the excessive leaping of the day before, we
continued on our way.
We traveled for only a couple of hours when we saw a multi-colored rocket in the sky, some ten
miles ahead of us.
"Bear to the left, Tony," Wilma said, "and listen for the whistle."
"Why?" I asked.
"Haven't they given you the rocket code yet?" she replied. "That's what the green, followed by yellow
and purple means: to conoentrate five miles east of the rocket position. You know the rocket position
itself might draw a play of dis rays."
It did not take us long to reach the neighborhood of the indicated rallying, though we were now
traveling beneath the trees, with but an occasional leap to a top branch to see if any more rocket
smoke was floating above. And soon we heard a distant whistle.
We found about half the Gang already there, in a spot where the trees met high above a little stream.
The Big Boss and Raid Bosses were busy reorganizing the remnants.
"You two stick close to me," he said, adding grirnly, "I'm going back to the valley at once with a
hundred picked men, and I'll need you."

SETTING THE TRAP

Inside of fifteen minutes we were on our way. A certain amount of caution was sacrificed for the sake of
speed, and the men leaped away either across the forest top, or over open spaces of ground, but
concentration was forbidden. The Big Boss named the sopt on the hillside as the rallying point
"We'll have to take a chance on being seen, so long as we don't group," he declared, "at least until
within five niiles of the rallying spot. From then on I want every man to disappear from sight and to
travel under cover. And keep your ultrophones open, and turned on ten-four-seven-six."
Wilma and I had received our battle equipment from the Gear Boss. It consisted of a long-gun, a
hand-gun, with a special case of ammunition constructed of inertron, which made the load weigh but a
few ounces, and a short sword. This gear we strapped over each other's shoulders, on top of our
jumping belts. In addition, we each received an ultrophone, and a light inertron blanket rolled into a
cylinder about six inches long by two or three in diameter. This fabric was exceedingly thin and
but it had considerable warmth, because of the mixture of inertron in its composition.
"This looks like business," Wilma remarked to me with sparkling eyes. (And I might mention a curious
thing here. The word "business" had survived from the 20th Century American vocabulary, but not
with any meaning of "industry" or "trade," for such things being purely community activities were
spoken of as "work" and
"clearing." Business simply meant fighting, and that was all.)
"Did you bring all this equipment from the valley?" I asked the Gear Boss.