THE ALLA-NAROVA MIND said sharply: “Glenn, come back!”
Tropile withdrew from scanning the distant dark street. He laughed soundlessly. “I was watching my wife. God, we’re giving them fits down there! The Pyramids must be churning things up, too—the sky is full of auroral displays. Looks like there’s plenty of h-f bouncing around the atmosphere.”
“Pay attention!” the Alla-Narova mind commanded.
“All right.” Obediently, Tropile returned to the war he was waging.
It was a strange conflict, strangely fought. Tropile’s mind searched the abysses and tunnels of the Pyramid planet, and what he sensed or saw was immediately communicated to all of the awakened Components who were his allies.
It was a godlike position. Was he sane? There was no knowing. Sanity no longer meant anything to Tropile
