In my dreams, the front of Alex’s shirt hung open to the waist; but it was still buttoned to the throat that day around the battle-tank. While Helena and Roland stood irritably over him, Alex crouched, making kissing sounds with his lips and holding out a cracker in his hand.
“People are waiting, Alex dear,” Helena said. I could hear her voice through the tiny receiver tucked into my ear and hidden by my hair. All of us wore such earphones; when she gave an order, she wanted everyone’s undivided attention.
“Just another sec,” Alex whispered. A concealed mike amplified his whisper clearly. He made more kissing sounds.
In front of him was an animal about the size of a mouse, part of the local wildlife. I could see the beast was brightly colored, a splash of green and crimson stripes against the drab dirt background; but it was too far away for me to make out much else. It inched toward the cracker Alex held out, its head wobbling back and forth slightly. I guessed it was sniffing, trying to make up its mind about the food and the human that held it. The animal seemed just about to nibble when a voice yelled, “Don’t!”
Every head jerked up, including the little beastie’s. Scrambling over the partly buried tank came Jerith, our archeologist and resident expert on the planet of Caproche. He’d lived on these abandoned battlefields for years, alone except for his robots, excavating dozens of sites as he tried to determine who had fought here and why.