![]() ![]() ![]() He turned around and began the long difficult descent with the unhurried manner of a man with nowhere to go and nothing to do. Incredibly, he had but 63 percent power remaining after a mere five hours on the planet. Idly, he kicked at the remnant of his blazer and watched it for the long seconds it took to fall. There a dense unbroken coating of sand covered the plassteel completely, from biceps to fingers. The splotches were mostly thin, irregular streaks, except for those on his arms. Other parts of the suit bore gray-brown splotches of the sands which had clung to the black ant blood which had clung to the armor. The left shoulder was now dark green instead of black where a full twenty-second burst of heat ray had ruptured the thin outer covering of the plassteel. The stock looked worse, crumpled and split from having been used in a way its creators had never intended-as a club. It's barrel was warped from the heat of overload. ![]() The blazer-rifle lay at his feet, useless. "Not on Banshee." For even in this supposedly deserted area, he had seen thousands upon thousands of ants. "Not here," he said, gazing blankly at the western foothills. ![]()
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