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For a moment it looked like they would make it: Steel's troops were well back from them and -- though there were ponds of oil below them -- they were not yet alight. Even the air seemed quieter than before. For all that,mbt shoes buy online, Blueshell managed to lose control. A gentle tipping went uncorrected,plate bending rolls, and the boat slid sideways into the ground. It was a slow collision, but Pham heard one of the landing pods cracking. Blueshell played with the controls and the other side of the craft settled to earth. The beamer was stuck muzzle first into the earth. Pham's gaze snapped up at the Skroderider. He'd known it would come to this. Ravna: "What happened? Can you get up?" Blueshell dithered with the controls a moment longer, then gave a Riderish shrug. "Yes. But it will take too long --" He was undoing his restraints, unclamping his skrode from the deck. The hatch in front of him slid open,mbt bomoa, and the noise of battle and fire came loud. "What in hell do you think you're doing, Blueshell!" The Rider's fronds angled attention at Pham, "To rescue the boy. This will all be afire in a moment." "And this boat could fry if we leave it here. You're not going anywhere,mbt ema black womens, Blueshell." He leaned forward, far enough to grab the other by his lower fronds. Johanna was looking wildly from one to the other in an uncomprehending panic. "No! Please --" And Ravna was shouting at him too. Pham tensed, all his attention on the Rider. Blueshell rocked toward him in the cramped space and pushed his fronds close to Pham's face. The voder voice frayed into nonlinearity: "And what will you do if I disobey? You need me whole or the boat is useless. I go,复件 (4) 复件 air max1, Sir Pham. I prove I am not the thrall of some Power. Can you prove as much?" He paused, and for a moment Rider and human stared at each other from centimeters apart. But Pham did not grab him. Brap. Blueshell's fronds withdrew. He rolled back onto the lip of the hatch. The skrode's third axle reached the ground,复件 (93) air max, and he descended in a controlled teeter. Still Pham had not moved. I am not some Power's program. "Pham?" The girl was looking up at him, and tugging at his sleeve. Nuwen shook the nightmare away and saw again. The Pilgrim pack was already out of the boat. Short swords were held in the mouths of the four adults; steel claws gleamed on their forepaws. "Okay." He flipped open a panel, withdrew the pistol he'd hidden there. Since Blueshell had crashed the damn boat, there was no choice but to make the best of it. The realization was a cool breath of freedom. He pulled free of the crash restraints and clambered down. Pilgrim stood all around him. The two with puppies were unlimbering some kind of shields. Even with all his mouths full, the critter's voice was as clear as ever: "Maybe we can find a way closer in --" between the flames. There were no more arrows from the ramparts. The air above the fire was just too hot for the archers. Pham and Johanna followed Pilgrim as he skirted pools of black goo. "Stay as far from the oil as we can." The packs of Mr. Steel were rounding the flames. Pham couldn't tell if they were charging the lander or simply fleeing the friendlies that chased them. And maybe it didn't matter. He dropped to one knee and sprayed the oncoming packs with his handgun. It was nothing like the beamer, especially at this range, but it was not to be ignored: the front dogs tumbled. Others bounded over them. They reached the far edge of the oil. Only a few ventured into the goo -- they knew what it could become. Others shifted out of Pham's sight, behind the landing boat. Was there a dry approach? Pham ran along the edge of the oil.