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The "herd bull" was the size of a large bison or small elephant. To support that bulk with an
exoskeleton required a material far stronger than chitin and the armored carapace of the bug was at least
a hand span thick. It might be an impossible kill with a punch gun, depending on how the shell reacted to
the blast. It would be difficult with the rounds Dagger carried. Not impossible perhaps. The antiarmor
rounds might work. Antimatter would certainly work, though it might require blowing a deep crater with
multiple rounds. But Tirdal wouldn't need to kill it and wasn't planning to.
He crouched for a moment then leapt up and over, free of the grass and with a clear, panoramic
view. Even with his chameleon in effect, this was a dangerous time, and he'd have to work quickly lest
Dagger see him and take a shot. That, and the insect might spook and toss him or dislodge him, possibly
stampede or crush him.
He was atop it, sitting slightly astride as he swung his pack around and ripped open the top
compartment flap. He heaved out the artifact, kept hold of the pack with one arm through it as it flopped
down, and held the box still with his weight while he snagged the roll of tape with his left hand, reaching
over his right and into the pack in a fashion that would impress an Earth acrobat.
It wasn't an easy task, with only one hand and his lips to get the tape going, but he succeeded. The
first piece held the box just still enough for him to get a second piece on, then a third. He was stretching
out a fourth piece when he suddenly found himself flying through the air from a truly elephantine buck.
The giant pill bug had all the agility of a terrestrial beetle but, luckily, had the reaction speed of a slug.
Perhaps it had slower neural paths, or was less sensitive on its back, or just stupid. But the herd bull
now had the Aldenata artifact strapped to its magnificently striped and armored back, with the tape still
hanging from the last strap he'd been fastening. And Tirdal was free to hunt. He grinned again and angled
through the herd, crossing the paths of the large beasts just behind them.
Chapter 18
What in the hell did the Elf think he was doing? He'd moved along the east side of this savanna,
which looked like it was probably a sinkhole lake that had emptied out, then moved rapidly west, then to
the north. Now he was moving west again. Slowly. More meandering than moving. And all the while on
the savanna. He had to have a better knowledge of tactics than that.
Dagger had found a lonely tree and climbed it for a good look. Generally he hated to shoot from
trees. If you were detected it made you a perfect target and even without being detected it was a
vulnerable spot. Better to be hunkered down on the ground. But you did what you had to do and the
savanna was a mixture of high pseudograss and bushes; there was no clear view from ground level. He
referred to his tracker, then tried to spot the same general area on the savanna. It was several clicks
away and the ground was rough but he couldn't spot anything that looked like the Darhel. There was a
large herd of those damned beetle things that had gotten in his way before. The Darhel might be staying
among them. That wasn't a bad tactic, actually. Dagger would have to get closer to take a shot, and
there'd be a lot of interference.
Then he ratcheted up the magnification on his scope and swore. The box was attached to the
broad gray back of one of the damned herbivores.
Without even thinking about it he was on his way to the ground. The Darhel would come looking
for him now. He couldn't kill, though. There was one thing that all humans knew about Darhel; no matter
how bad they were they couldn't kill.
So was the shoe on the other foot or not? Oh, this was just lovely.
Why couldn't the asshole have had the decency to die?
* * *
Tirdal paused and took a few breaths. This was really playing with the black side. The tal reacted
to hatred, fear and aggression, all the demons that lurked in the Darhel soul. And it also accentuated
them, causing a feedback loop. Now on the trail of his first kill, Tirdal constantly found himself forcing
the glinak back in its cave. If it was this bad just trying to track in on the sniper, it would be nasty when it
came time for the . . . the . . . kill.
That, and he'd have to dodge numerous shots. It was better than a draw that would leave him
stranded, with Dagger in control of the pod's landing sites, or leave both of them stranded to die. Though
that option was preferable, as a last resort, than to let Dagger have the artifact. If so, Tirdal was
prepared to face that death. It would be an easy one. All he had to do was let tal push him into lintatai
and he'd not care what happened next. Of course, the chewing of predators would drag him out of
trance in order to die, but that could be avoided by hiding in a cave or depression.
Tal was still an enticing option, too. He needed it, and the dosage he required increased as he
developed the taste and the accompanying Sense. Would it be possible to build immunity through
exposure? Research said not, but Tirdal was certainly running at a level rarely encountered. If control
was the reason, then it spoke well of him as an individual, but would not help the race. He let his
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