He was answered by another wave of the black negation--stronger, rolling
up to smash them down, as a wave in the heavy surf of a wild ocean
pounds its force against the beach. This time Dane thought he could see
that dark mass. He tore his eyes away before it took on substance,
concentrating on the movements of his hands against the drum head,
refusing to believe that hammer of power was rising to flatten them all.
He had heard Tau describe such things in the past. But told in familiar
quarters on board the _Queen_, such experiences were only stories. Here
was danger unleashed. Yet the medic stood unbowed as the wave broke upon
him in full.
And, advancing under the crest of that lick of destruction, came its
controller. This was no ghost drawn from the materials of the swamp;
this was a man, walking quietly, his hands as empty as Tau's, yet
grasping weapons none of them could see.
In the firelight, as the wave receded sullenly, men moaned, lay face
down upon the ground, beat their hands feebly against the earth. But, as
Lumbrilo came on from the shadows, one of them got to his hands and
knees, moving with small tortured jerks.
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