All of the post
people could be erased with one bomb at night."
All except two of them had been true Beaker traders, including women and
children. No Beaker trading post was large, and this one was unusually
small. The attacker had wiped out some twenty people, eighteen of them
innocent victims.
"How long ago?" Ross wanted to know.
"Maybe two days. And this attack came without any warning, or Sandy
would have sent a message. He had no suspicions at all; his last reports
were all routine, which means that if they were on to him--and they must
have been, judging by the results--he was not even aware of it."
"What do we do now?"
Ashe looked at him. "We wash--no--" he corrected himself--"we don't! We
go to Nodren's village. We are frightened, grief-stricken. We have found
our kinsmen dead under strange circumstances. We ask questions of one to
whom I am known as an inhabitant of this post."
So, covered with dirt, they walked along the trackway toward the
neighboring village with a weariness they did not have to counterfeit.
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