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mainly because its magazine could hold up to four thousand of the needles that
the weapon fired.
Each of the needles could be lethal if it hit a vital spot; but a spray of
them was almost certain to bring down a human target. one way or another. The
needles were slirn little things, hardly bigger than their average namesakes
that were used for ordinary sewing. A kick from a machine-wound spring unit or
from a cylinder of highly compressed air flicked the needles clear of the
muzzle of the gun and started them toward their target. But each needle was
like a miniature rocket. A solid propellant, ignited by the needle's escape
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from the muzzle of the rifle, drove it up to three hundred meters in a
straight line toward whatever it had been aimed at. All needles fired on the
same trigger pull formed a spiral pattern that spread as it approached its
target, like shot from the muzzle of an ancient shotgun.
The advantages lay, therefore, in the amount of firepower from a relatively
light weapon; plus the fact that the needle gun
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263
was almost invulnerable to disablement through misuse. You could drag it
through the mud, or recover it from being under half a mile of water for six
months, and it would still work. Moreover, the fact that it could be used in
poorly trained hands to spray the general area of an enemy like a hose, made
it extremely popular.
It also could deliver a number of auxiliary devices, kicking them clear with
spring or compressed gas, to be self-propelled toward a particular target. But
this catch-net device was one Hal had never encountered before; probably
because, as Calas had said, its design fitted it rather for police than
military use. I "They've got seeker circuits in the noses," said Calas. "Once
fired, the catch-net capsule homes in on the first human body it comes close
to-combination of body heat, bodily electrical circuitry and so forth, I
understand-and when it gets right close to them, it blows apart and spreads a
net that drops over the body. As I say, they use them for recapturing
prisoners and things like that. In fact, I think the catch-net was designed in
the first place for prison guards and police crowd control. That sort of
thing."
Hal checked the other scopes. All the soldiers who were ready to begin
searching had the catch-net capsules perched like blunt-nosed rockets on the
barrel-ends of their needle guns.
He sat back to see how the search would develop. As the sun mounted in the
sky, this second morning, all the individual search units were finally at
work. Hal checked the command post at the roadhead and saw that Liu was still
there, with the sergeant Calas had called "the Urk" in attendance. Outside
Liu's shelter an operations table with map screen in its surface and
permanently mounted scopes stood in the daylight. One of the vehicles in which
the searching party had come out was still there and parked by the table,
undoubtedly generating power for the table, as well as the comforts of the
command shelter, on tight-beam circuit.
Old Man reached over suddenly, just before noon, and tapped with his finger on
the screen of the scope before Hal. Hal looked, but saw nothing to explain the
other man's drawing his attention to it. Still, the slim, yellow fingertip
rested on the screen, which was now showing a mass of forest undergrowth just
beyond the two soldiers they had in focus there at the moment. Hal kept his
eyes on that area of the screen, waiting;
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Gordon R. Dickson
THE CHANTRY GUILD
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and, after a moment, he too saw what had caught Old Man's eye-a flicker of
movement.
He watched. A small, slim, brown body was moving parallel to the searching
soldiers, at a distance from them of perhaps ten meters. Hal continued to
watch and for a moment she was fully in view, before the greenery hid her
again. It was Cee, with, as before, nothing but the length of vine with its
split-open pod shape a few inches to one side of her navel. 'I don't think
they've seen her," said Hal. "No," answered Old Man. "Seen who?" demanded
Calas. Once more Old Man's finger tapped and held on the screen. Calas stared
at it. After a long moment he whistled softly and sat back.
He looked at Hal. "What should we do?" he asked. "What would you suggest we
do?" Hal said, meeting his eyes. Calas stared at him for a long moment and
then looked away. Hal softened his voice. "For now," he said, "you concentrate
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