All he could see were the tiny red power lights of radio andcomputer. Or is it insolent? he added silently. And for every question they asked, he had theanswer, an ideal answer, lucid and brilliant. Preparing to attack Komars! Did the vole attack the stoat? Vilmur Klensknew now what this meeting, this needless recitation was about, had tobe about.
And with enoughluck, I'll be back. Quietly he took his recorder andwandered out to the tiny vehicle park, to sit in the unmuddy privacy of aT'swa hovercar and record his still-fresh thoughts and impressions. Beyond fifty feet he saw only dimly, and beyond eightynothing at all. For the moment the shooting had slackened, as if the Birds werepreparing something.
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