We have ways of making you talk presents The Cauldron by Zeno, read by Almari.

Chapter 5

Alan felt built and jerk away from him as if to start running back to the wood.

He must have realised a futility of his intention almost at once, for he stopped in his tracks

and throwing himself on the ground rolled over his rifle springing to his shoulder.

He saw no sense in being fired at without hitting back.

Alan's knees bent to join his backman on the ground, but even as he did so, his mind suddenly

became occupied with a theory of small arms fire.

Horosontal planes, quadrant angles, the axis of barrels, the culminating point of trajectories,

and danger zones flew disconnectly through his brain.

He realised that when fired at from the air, many of these were no longer applicable,

or if they were, their application would be relevant in a different way.

He decided he would be a smaller target standing up.

He strained his legs and looked up at the diving mishasmiths.

Their menacing shapes, the roar of their engines, and the chatter of their guns filled

his visual world and deffent his ears, so that he missed the sight at the hundreds of puffs

of dust that their bullets kicked up down the length of the long narrow field in which

he stood.

And then they were past him and turning.

They swung up the previous days, LZ, their guns blazing at the empty gliders.

Alan shouted to building, and the pair of them ran for cover.

As he ran, Alan threw a quick glance at the dung heap, and was in time to see the head

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