Read Zelazny, Roger - Novel 05 for Free Online

far
end, where I was screened by an overlapping mass of boulders about fifty feet
ahead. I made my way up to them and kept bearing right, until I had gone about
as far as I could go without exposing myself. This was about two hundred yards
beyond my previous shelter, which was then taking quite a pounding. I had no
idea what the layout was on the other side, so I decided to investigate on
foot.
                   I left everything running, including the
radio, with its faint, importuning, "Are you there, Angel? Are you still
there?" and I climbed down onto the rocky ground, feeling its continuing
vibrations through my armor, and I smelled burning chemicals and tasted salty
dust
                   I circled carefully, keeping close to the
boulder, dropping to my belly and crawling the final distance as I rounded it
As I did this, I picked up Styler's voice on my suit-radio.
                   "I'm sorry it had to be this way,
Angie," he said. "If you are still alive and can hear me, I hope you
believe that. For whatever it is worth, everything that I said was true. I was
not lying to you ..."
                   Yes! If I brought it around to the right and
up that sharp upswing, I would have a clear line of fire! If I got all the
rockets off, there was a sharp downgrade I might be able to reach. It led to
what looked like a dried-out streambed ...
                   "... I am just going to keep firing now
until nothing remains. You have left me no alternative ..."
                   I made my way back to the vehicle and
rechecked all systems. The rocks behind me would soon be a gravel pit Or sand.
                   Everything was ready. Any second now he might
throw something really heavy this way, too. I had to be fast.
                   I clanked forward and up at a respectable
speed. At times, the list almost made it seem as if I were about to topple to
the left.
                   I made it, though, had a momentary, clear view
of the Doxford headquarters, flameless now, but emitting a great plume of gray
smoke, and then I halted, locked in and fired my rockets, one after the other,
each jolt threatening to knock me back down the slope.
                   I did not wait to see the result, but plunged
ahead the moment the last missile had been discharged.
                   I reached the bottom of the downgrade, swung
left and kept going. Very soon thereafter, the rise from which I had fired
erupted in flame and was reduced to a smoldering crater. A shower of gravel
pelted me moments later.
                   I continued undisturbed for what seemed a long
while. The firing continued, but it fell in a random pattern now and seemed a
trifle more sporadic than it had been.
                   I could not leave the gulley at the
rock-shrouded spot I desired. I tried, but the engine was not able to haul me
up the slope. Its clanking had grown more ominous, also; and I detected the
smell of burning insulation.
                   When I finally reached the only grade it could
take, I pressed on up it and discovered that I was within four hundred yards of
Styler's citadel.
                   The near side of the building had caved in
completely, and I could see flames dancing beyond the rubble. There was more
smoke than before. The guns—wherever they were, whatever sort they were—went
crazy briefly, then fell silent. This lasted for perhaps ten seconds. Then one
of them commenced firing again, slowly, regularly, at some imaginary target far
off to the right and back. A long line of squat, heavy-treaded robots was drawn
up before the building, absolutely still, presumably guarding the place.
                   "All right, you were lucky," Styler
said, and his voice sounded strange after the long silence. "I cannot deny
the damage you have done, but you have come about as far as you can.