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Cody had been, and at the moment he wasn't inclined to solicit Doc for further
information about him.
A movement on the canyon rim caught his eye. The head of the Helskel sniper was
silhouetted against the blue of the sky, and sunlight gleamed dully off the gun barrel as he
brought it into firing position.
As J.B. raised his Uzi, the sec man's head suddenly acquired a new and different shape,
and the automatic rifle in his hands tumbled down the face of the cliff. The crack of the
rifle shot was lost in the echoes of the gunfire from the men on the canyon floor, but the
Armorer definitely heard the volley of shots that followed it.
Bullets punched gouts of dirt from around the sec men's cover, and they shouted in
surprise and fear. J.B. scanned the towering walls and saw at least half a dozen copper-
skinned men on horseback, men with feathers in their long black hair, paint on their faces
and blasters in their hands. He recognized Touch-the-Sky among them.
J.B. stared at the band of Sioux as they poured a withering hail of autofire down on the
sec men from above. He turned to Doc and said, "That ain't your Colonel Cody or the
U.S. Cavalry."
"I'm not going to complain," Krysty said, smiling with relief. "Are you?"
J.B. wasn't going to complain, but he did wonder whether the Lakota, after chilling the
sec men, might end up blasting them down. He doubted that Touch-the-Sky's arrival was
to pull their fat out of the fire. More than likely he was taking advantage of the
opportunity to rid the Black Hills of white intruders once and for all.
Jak and Krysty opened fire on the sec men while they were occupied by the Sioux. They
were spread out all over the canyon floor, and half of them shot back at the Indians while
the other half blasted away at them. But most of their shots went wild, since they were
trying to dodge and duck the death belching from the rifles above.
Seeing that the sec men were thoroughly occupied with the Lakota, J.B. said, "Let's hit
the cave."
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"No time like the present," Doc said, rising stiffly to his feet.
The five people climbed quickly over the rocks and sprinted for the cave opening. The
few hasty shots directed their way kicked up dirt and rock, but none came uncomfortably
close. As far as J.B. could tell, the bullets didn't come from above.
As they darted inside, J.B. risked a backward glance and saw the Lakota astride their
ponies, swerving away from the edge of the canyon and galloping toward its mouth. If
Hellstrom lurked anywhere back there, the Indians' pounding arrival would flush him out.
The cavern had a huge, irregular dome shape. The sunlight slanting into the canyon
reached only a few yards past the opening. Beyond that, darkness was a congealed mass,
and none of them moved toward it.
"Remember what Hellstrom said about the beetles," he warned.
They remained at the mouth of the cave, hunkering down on either side of it, not
shooting, just watching, waiting and listening. The sec men didn't fire at them. They had
to be aware of their situation, being trapped in the middle between the guns in the cave
and the guns of the Sioux, but they stayed where they were, behind cover.
"J.B.," Krysty called, "shouldn't we look for that mat-trans gateway?"
"I don't want to bump into those flying mechanical bugs in the dark. Besides, we should
stay and finish it with Hellstrom."
Jak grinned ruefully. "Nervous too about going back there blind."
Fleur snorted. "We may not have a choice, if our men make a charge."
" 'Our' men?" Doc echoed, angling an eyebrow at her. "I was under the impression you
felt thoroughly disaffected from your former fraternity."
"You're welcome to go out there and join them," Krysty said in a tight, cold tone. "If you
think they'll let you. Of course, if they do, I'll chill you personally."
The roar of an engine floated up from around a bend in the canyon wall, and mingled
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with it was the crackle of gunfire and yipping war cries. A few seconds later the AMAC
jounced into view, with hard-riding Lakota flanking it, shooting at its armored hide and
uttering fierce screams. A warrior was crouched on the roof, clinging to the periscope. As
the wag drew closer, J.B. recognized the Indian as Touch-the-Sky. Though the
windshield was tinted, he assumed Lars Hellstrom himself was behind the wheel.
The sec men were rising to their knees, believing the AMAC was making a rescue run
and would brake, allowing them to board it. The vehicle didn't stop, didn't even slow. It
sped past the sec men, and they howled in anger and terror. The Lakota had used the big
armored wag as mobile cover, and when their ponies paralleled the sec men's position,
they directed their fire into them. The return fire was sporadic.
Though a couple of the Sioux pitched from their saddle blankets with bullet wounds, the
remainder leaped from horseback and grappled hand-to-hand.
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