So, was he supposed to turn now, try and gun them all down, the way the hero does it in a trideo show? Forget it! That might work on the trid, but in the past three days Falcon had learned a lot about just how much relationship the trid had to real life. Slim and none. If he stopped, if he tried to return fire, he might crease one or two of the trolls—if he was real lucky—before they reduced him to a cloud of airborne blood droplets and a smear of tissue on the ground. No, thank you.