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screen. “Look. Caravan’s
stopping.” They watched idly while the long line of people,
animals, carts and a few well-used skimmers gathered into a tight
knot. The smaller beasts where herded together in the center and
most of the people got busy with digging a circle of shallow
ditches. “Storm coming?”
    Reko scanned the sky of the northern horizon.
The nomads bred a peculiar sort of desert animal, short-legged
crawlers called churries whose bodies were so flat and wide
that they were actually used as shelters during a sandstorm. The
herders merely dug a shallow depression into the sand and directed
the ruminants to cover them. Efficient, warm, safe and probably not
very sweet-smelling. Once the tan-colored animals settled on the
ground, they became nearly impossible to spot from a distance.
    “ Want to bet that our skimmers aren’t
going to make it out there and back again before the storm
hits?”
    Nova smiled and tapped the com system on her
data sleeve. “Base, Unit Four reporting herders digging in to the
north-west.”
    “ Heard, Four.”
    “ You are spoiling my fun,” Reko said
but both of them knew that, if the caravan had been tipped off
about the approaching patrol, the ditches might well be dug to hide
rebel infiltrators. There had been no warning about an approaching
sandstorm today and winds were calm over the plains. “Though if we
get a storm we won’t have to worry about an air strike today.
They’re not going to fly Shrills in here.”
    She nodded and sent a request for a more
detailed weather analysis. Shrills, the small, single-seat fighters
used primarily by the Shri-Lan, were nimble and powerful but far
more delicate than Air Command’s sturdy Kites. For days now, their
scouts and spies had reported a possible air strike mobilizing on a
continent outside Union influence. So far, the skies were empty of
aircraft and would remain so during one of the choking sandstorms
so common here.
    But the rebels’ most effective weapons were
not machines of war. The methods that made Air Command’s
traditional operations useless in places like Shon Gat were rebel
infiltrations into both civilian and military populations,
explosives carried under clothing or lobbed with crude trebuchets,
poisoned water, poisoned air, hostages and booby traps. Looking for
threats inside the town and protecting the cadre of engineers
working on the elevator base had become their main occupation.
    Most overt rebel attacks featured elaborate
schemes to disrupt the power transformers near the base. The tether
itself was heavily shielded and bore missile defense mechanisms at
intervals along its length, presenting a far more difficult
target.
    “ Storm confirmed, Four,” they heard
from the direction of Nova’s wrist. “Not until dusk, though.
Proceed to Unit Five rendezvous point and overnight
there.”
    “ That storm’s going to wreck my lungs
for a week,” Reko grumbled.
    Nova reached over and tugged on his scarf. It
was made of a flexible filtering material and she let it snap back
against his face where it was most appropriately kept during a
stand storm. “Maybe you should use the proper gear instead of
trying to look suave without it,” she said.
    “ I don’t like to hide this pretty
face.”
    “ Your face, my boot.” She ducked when
he swung his arm to take her into a headlock. “You’re far too slow, shekka’an .”
    He shook his head. “You need to put more
emphasis on the last syllable,” he instructed. “Really put feeling
into that part to include my family. Much more insulting that
way.”
    She practiced the Centauri expletive a few
times until he was satisfied. “Now you got it. Stick with me,
you’ll go far.”
    She grimaced and looked out over the arid
landscape. Scrubland from one horizon to the next, little grew here
along the equator beyond what kept the local herd animals fed.
Rocks, the occasional oasis of matted trees and mud-brick
settlements, caravans. Far to the south in lusher