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Moss touched him on the arm. An A-class leady was coming from the building toward them. "We've seen enough," Franks said, raising his voice. "All this is very serious. It must be reported below and a study made to determine our policy." The leady said nothing. Franks waved to the soldiers. "Let's go." He started toward the warehouse. Most of the soldiers had removed their helmets. Some of them had taken their lead suits off, too, and were relaxing comfortably in their cotton uniforms. They stared around them, down the hillside at the trees and bushes, the vast expanse of green, the mountains and the sky. "Look at the Sun," one of them murmured. "It sure is bright as hell," another said. "We're going back down," Franks said. "Fall in by twos and follow us." Reluctantly, the soldiers regrouped. The leadys watched without emotion as the men marched slowly back toward the warehouse. Franks and Moss and Taylor led them across the ground, glancing alertly at the leadys as they walked.
They entered the warehouse. D-class leadys were loading material and weapons on surface carts. Cranes and derricks were working busily everywhere. The work was done with efficiency, but without hurry or excitement. The men stopped, watching. Leadys operating the little carts moved past them, signaling silently to each other. Guns and parts were being hoisted by magnetic cranes and lowered gently onto waiting carts. "Come on," Franks said. He turned toward the lip of the Tube. A row of D-class leadys was standing in front of it, immobile and silent. Franks stopped, moving back. He looked around. An A-class leady was coming toward him.
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