Robert the Fox had his old cape thrown over his antiradiation battle dress. His grizzled hair was singed on one side. His face was composed but there was a hint of concern. He grabbed Jonnie’s wrist and gave it a hearty shake of welcome.
Jonnie looked at the singed hair. “How are casualties?”
“Light,” said Robert the Fox. “Surprisingly light. They don’t want to show themselves to us. It impeded their aim. And it’s like fighting in a rainstorm. Look, you’re not wearing antiradiation—”
“That water is washing radiation away as fast as you fire it in,” said Jonnie. “I have something to do. There’s no breathe-gas in that drone. I don’t need radiation cover.”
“Jonnie, can’t that drone wait until the minesites have been flattened? It will take the drone up to eighteen hours to get where it’s
