XIV
With a series of grinding shocks, like an enormous earthquake-fault relieving a strain, the Pyramids began to fight back.
"Tropile!" the Alla-Narova mind called urgently.
Tropile flashed to the trouble spot. Through eyes that were not his own, Tropile scanned the honeycombed world of the Pyramids. There was an area where huge and ancient vehicles lay covered with the slow dust of centuries, and the vehicles were beginning to move.
Caterpillar-treaded hauling machines were loading themselves with what Tropile judged were quickly synthesized explosives. Almost forgotten wheeled vehicles were creeping mindlessly out of nearly abandoned storage sections and lumbering painfully along the tunnels of the planet.
"Coming toward us," Tropile diagnosed dispassionately.
Alla Narova queried:
