Chapter 18Stephanie stood on the gnarled, darkgreen grass of Jarnger. Her sidearm was at her waist. Eric NortonandJohn Devins, so deeply bronzed they almost looked yellow, stoodbeside her holding laser rifles. For fifty miles there was nothinginsight. The three stood on a deserted plain, clear land in everydirection. Flat except for the bumpy, tangled threads of green. Thegreen blades intertwined with one another but not in a friendlyway.A grassy battle was being fought beneath their feet. Some gnarlswerethree inches high. It was like walking on golf balls, Stephaniethought. She stood beside a tree which shared a trait with thegrass.The branches, like the grass, were twisted and contorted. They wovearound the trunk. The tree looked like it was hugging itself. Shefrowned again and looked at
