some of them got over the earthworks. Twenty Ponies could not believe it was possible, but they did. Soon he was engaged in a bayonet duel with a young Union soldier, whose rifle had no clip in it. He must have tried to reload and lost it. But Twenty Ponies was dry, too. The kid nicked him twice until Twenty Ponies finally put his bayonet in his throat. The kid went down gasping. Twenty Ponies reloaded and got back in position.
But the Union's forces were retreating again. When everything quieted down Twenty Ponies screamed "Casualties!"
"I've lost two," Wing answered.
"Same here!" Turtle remarked.
Ponies could see three dead by him. Rabbits came up. "I lost three," he remarked. "The idiots tried to come up the damn slope! They tried to pin us down with rifle grenades. But they weren't very effective. I think we may have killed at least a hundred of them!"
"Sir!" a soldier called. "White flag!"
Twenty Ponies went up to the top of the earthworks. "What do you want?" he asked.
"Sir!" someone shouted, "Can our medics come forward and clear the wounded that can't evacuate? We give our word no attack until they're done."
"Go ahead!" Twenty Ponies snapped. "Keep an eye on them, everyone!" he ordered. "Make sure they don't try to plant any range markers or anything."
"Yes sir!" everybody answered.
"Sir," Turtles sighed, coming up, "have you noticed these are just kids! I think one of 'em I killed was only about thirteen! Others look about fourteen or fifteen. What in the hell is the Union doing?"
"Desperation," Twenty Ponies answered. "They're taking anybody that will fight." He looked at his watch. 9 o'clock. They'd held for two hours. He took his glasses and checked on the tanks. His was gone. The other one was a burning hulk.
"Wings," he asked, "your man get back?"
"No sir!" the Warlock answered, "He didn't make it. But he took several of the enemy with him besides the tank. I think he was our only casualty."
"189," Ponies moaned. "189 left!" He wondered how many would be when they were finally overwhelmed. But he had only light wounds. So far nobody had to be put in the bunker.
He looked at the enemy's medics who were checking through the fallen. They weren't trying to pick up weapons or ammunition. They were playing by the rules. But he saw one young man drop something on the ground.
"Medic!" he called. "The one straight ahead of me. You hear me! Pick up whatever you dropped and bring it to me. You've got free passage."
The medic quickly obliged. "Sorry sir!" he snapped, "it was just my player. I was trying to put it in my pocket."
He held out one of the little music players that were so popular.
"Can't believe how small those things have gotten!" Twenty Ponies moaned. "Get back to work, medic! Sorry to question you."
"Oh, no problem, sir!" the medic snapped. "Can I make a comment sir?"
"Go ahead!" Ponies remarked.
"Are you guys really Indians? One of our people said he saw Comanche insignia on your uniforms."
"Sure are!" Twenty Ponies answered. "We're all Comanchies."
"Whoa!" the Union medic moaned. He quickly hurried off. Him and his companions finished their work.
The robot had been busy gathering weapons. There was a loud DING as something bounced off it, but the robot just kept going.
"Hey, did they violate the truce?" one of the men asked.
"Naw!" Twenty Ponies answered, "All the medics were off the field. I think that was justified."
He took a rough count of the dead before them. At least five hundred now. He heard a buzzing sound and saw something small coming towards him. Instantly he brought up his rifle and fired. There was an horrendous blast that knocked him backwards. "Whoa!" he remarked. "Looks like they put some thermite on one of those little scouting drones and tried to get us with it. They were probably after our lasers. Keep your eyes open, people!' He looked at his watch again. 9:30. If they were keeping to their schedule they'd attack again any time. He had barely lowered his arm when the artillery and the mortars started.
"They're gettin' smarter!" Wings remarked. "They're spreading their mortars out, not puttin' them all in one position now. Haven't they got any lasers?"
"They're supposed to have!" Twenty Ponies answered. But either we destroyed them, or they didn't get issued any. All the better for us!"
Speaking of his lasers, an artillery shell was heard and the laser came to life. The enemy seemed to be making a frontal assault. Some of the men were rushing forward falling down, laying down fire, while others rushed between them, fell down, and started firing, while still others came on. "Rolling assault," Ponies muttered, and began firing.

Page 5