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ten meals and empty bottles。 Scott noticed that Wolff's hand shook as he downed the drink。
〃Well； let's not stand on ceremony； Bernard；〃 Wolff said exuberantly。 〃Have a seat。 You can tell me about your ill…fated offensive and I'll tell you about mine。〃
〃Sir； I'm not really here to socialize。。。〃
〃Oh； I see；〃 Wolff said from the couch； with mock seriousness。 〃What's this about； then？〃
Scott stared at the man before replying； fighting an impulse to turn around and leave the room before matters got worse。 〃You don't remember me； do you； sir？ I knew you on Tirol。 I was part of the Saturn group； an assistant to Dr。 Lang。〃
Wolff's grin straightened； he turned his face away from Scott。 〃That was a long time ago； Bernard。 And a lot of miles from here。〃 He put the drink glass aside。 〃I'm sorry about this； Bernard。 We lost quite a few good men today。 And there's damn few left。〃
〃Sir； about this town。。。The Wolff Pack…〃
〃This isn't the Wolff Pack； Lieutenant！〃 Wolff barked。
〃The Wolff Pack is dead； every last one of them。〃 He got up and returned to the bottle。 〃I know what you're thinking； Bernard。 That the noble Jonathan Wolff is but a ghost of his former self and that he can't even control his troops。 But you don't know the full story； Bernard。 Not the half of it！〃
Wolff scowled and set the drink aside without tasting it。 〃These men aren't soldiers…they're rogues and thieves and Foragers and every other kind of riffraff this planet has spawned during the past fifteen years。 I do what I can with the few real soldiers I cross paths with。 But this is Earth； not Tirol。 And our enemy behaves differently here。。。As we all do。〃
Scott wasn't sure what to say； so he simply came to the point。 〃I'd like to be part of your team； sir。〃
Now it was Wolff's turn to stare。 〃You obviously know what you're in for； Bernard。〃
〃I've fought my way through a thousand miles； if that's what you mean。〃
Wolff's eyebrows went up behind the dark glasses。 〃Impressive。〃
〃In fact；〃 Scott said excitedly； 〃if it's good troops you're looking for…〃
〃No；〃 Wolff cut him off firmly。 〃I don't care how good they are。 If they're not Robotech…trained； I don't want them。〃 He turned his back to Scott to stare out the window。
〃But； sir…〃
〃That will be all for now； Bernard。〃
Scott buttoned his lip and saluted。 〃Your orders？〃
〃Oh…five…hundred sharp at the main gate；〃 Wolff said without turning around。
Four Cyclone riders suited up in battle armor left the basin base at sunrise； ascended the escarpment； and headed into the lush forests an hour's ride east。 Wolff； Todd； Wilson； and Bernard。 Scott had made no mention of his meeting with Wolff to Rand or the others。 He had gone as far as bunking with them in a room they had managed to secure in one of the base's barracks turned hotels and had crept out under the cover of darkness after leaving a scrawled note of explanation on his bedroll。 He had to admit that it felt strange and disforting to be without them； his surrogate family and personal 〃wolf pack。〃 But he told himself it was time to begin distancing himself from them； his new loyalties would have to lie with Wolff and whatever missions lay ahead of them。
The four men left their Cyclones in the woods and followed Wolff's lead along a faint trail that coursed over low hills to an enormous clearing。 Through the foliage； Scott caught glimpses of a massive red hemisphere of some sort。 It troubled him that they had left the Cyclones behind and were closing on the Invid Protoculture farm armed only with hand weapons。 Wolff's explanation made sense…that they wouldn't be able to get near the place on Protoculture…fueled mocha…but even so； it was hard to imagine that simple H…90's could effect much damage。
It was only when they reached the edge of the clearing that Wolff made the rest of the plan clear： It was imperative that they make off with enough Protoculture to fuel the massive rescue operation Wolff was planning。 Each previous mission had brought him closer to this goal； and today's could plete the rescue team's requirements。 Beyond that； the four of them simply had to keep themselves from being fried by annihilation discs。 Scott had a clear view of the farm now and understood why Wolff hadn't attempted to describe the place earlier…it had to be seen to be believed。 It was a hemisphere； all right； but one that stood more than three hundred feet high and was nearly a mile in circumference。 It was a kind of blood…red； organic…looking geodesic dome； lit from within by a pulsing light。 And from its techno…system base extended ten tentaclelike projections； each a good fifty feet around。 Scott imagined that it must have resembled a jellyfish creature from above。
Wolff whispered a warning to his men。 〃Don't be fooled just because you don't see any Invid。 They're around； you can be sure of it。〃 Wolff had the faceshield of his Cyclone helmet raised； he had his dark glasses on。
Scott had to admit that the man was cool and alert； not the boozing； self…pitying Wolff he had seen the night before but the Wolff who had led the Pack up the glory road。
〃There are two entry points above the foundation。 The Protoculture is stored just inside these；〃 Wolff said； gesturing to two arched portals in the membranous portion of the hemisphere wall。 He told Todd and Wilson to take the south one。 〃Bernard and I will take the other one。〃
The three men nodded。
〃Don't overburden yourselves；〃 Wolff added。 〃Just take what you can carry without weighing yourselves down。 Remember； you might need a free hand for those blasters。〃 Wolff grinned。 〃But I hope it won't e to that。〃
Wilson and Todd moved off； using one of the tentacles for cover。 Wolff waved Scott forward a moment later。
Halfway along one of the segmented tentacles； Wolff and Scott stopped； huddling down with their backs against the thing； waiting for Wilson and Todd to reach the south portal。
But something unexpected occurred just as Wilson was stepping through。
〃Wolff！〃 Scott heard Todd shout over the suit's tac net。 〃There's a force field of some kind！〃 He and Wolff turned at the same moment： Wilson seemed to be suspended in the entrance； arms up over his head； his