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"It's a wonder you didn't kill yourselves with those old blasters you used, let alone kill a tyranno." The three cadets examined the rifles closely and with enthusiasm. "These are the latest Solar Guard issue," said Connel. "When you pull that trigger, you release a force three times greater than anything put into a rifle before."
Besides, we're getting close to the big stuff now. You might see a tyranno or a big bronto any time. And if they come along, you'll hear 'em, believe me. They're about as quiet as a squadron of cruisers on battle emergency blasting off from the Academy in the middle of the night!" "O.K.," replied Tom. "You're the hunter in this crew." Suddenly he laughed.
"This blaster will knock the scales off any tyranno that you hit," he said, handing the weapon over to Tom who expertly broke it down and examined it. As Tom checked the gun, the proprietor turned to the other cadets casually. "Why would three cadets want to go into that section of the jungle belt?" "We just told you," said Roger. "We're hunting tyranno." "Uh, yes, of course."
She must have weighed twenty-five or thirty tons. Biggest tyranno I've ever seen. She spotted me the same time I saw her and I didn't even stop to fire. I never could have dented her hide. I started running and she came after me. I made it to a cave and went as far back inside as I could.
How long have they been in the jungle?" "About four and a half days now." "Hope they get themselves a tyranno. But at the same time" Connel couldn't help chuckling "if they do, Space Academy will never hear the end of it!" Suddenly the hot wilting silence around the house was shattered by a thunderous roar. Connel jumped up, followed Sinclair to the window, and stared out over the clearing.
"Yeah. Tyrannosaurus." "Tyranno, eh?" nodded the little man. "Well, now, you'll need heavy stuff for that. I'd say at least three heavy-duty paralo-ray pistols for side arms, and three shock rifles. Then you'll need camping equipment, synthetics, and all the rest." He counted the items off on grubby little fingers. "Let's take a look at the blasters," said Tom. "Right this way," said the man.
"Well," said Joan with a smile, "I'll put my money on Astro against a tyranno any time, pound for pound!" "Hear, hear!" chimed in Sykes, and forgetting his argument with Connel, he turned to the spaceman. "Say, Lou," he said, "when you get to Venus tell Higgy I said to show you that magnetic ionoscope he's rigging up. It might give you some ideas."
As long as he lived he was ever Master of the Mint in Bologna, for which he made the stamps of all the dies, both under the rule of the Bentivogli and also during the lifetime of Pope Julius, after their departure, as is proved by the coins struck by that Pope on his entrance into the city, which had on one side his head portrayed from life, and on the other these words: BONONIA PER JULIUM A TYRANNO LIBERATA. So excellent was he held in this profession, that he continued to make the dies for the coinage down to the time of Pope Leo; and the impressions of his dies are so greatly prized, and those who have some hold them in such esteem, that money cannot buy them.
"If it's a tyranno, it walks on its hind legs and has its head way up in the trees, and could pass within ten feet of us and not see us. But if it's a bronto, it has a long snakelike neck that he pokes all around and he wouldn't miss us at a hundred feet!" "Make up your mind quick, big boy," said Roger. "If that thing gets any closer, I'm opening up with this blaster.
A man is discharged from the Solar Guard and he can keep his equipment, then he gets hard up for a few credits and so he comes to me." Tom closed the shock rifle and turned to Astro. "This gun is clean enough. Think it can stop a tyranno, Astro?" "Sure," said the big cadet confidently. "Easy." "O.K.," announced Tom, turning back to the proprietor. "Give us the rest of the stuff."