Squad Commander Fraser shifted his machine pistol onto the  other shoulder and squinted into the low-hanging sun. The hummocky terrain beyond the wall was baked hard, any remaining grass  withered white, bouncing the harsh rays into his eyes. Little by little the barren zone merged into scrubby brush, dessicated and  barely alive, which stretched as far as the eye could see. They’d  been told to expect quite a crowd later in the morning, spotted  heading their way by the security drones the previous evening. So far he’d seen not a soul.