Some sort of laser gun from Heaven and Hell.

Atlanta Ignalina stood watching him, with the cool composure of a householder who has just broken the back of a poisonous snake. In her left hand was the unmistakable ugliness of a frygun. Until the moment of use, it had been hidden beneath the dusting rag. Atlanta glanced at her bleeding right hand, sucked at the blood oozing from the dart-wound between two knuckles. As she did so, Om got to his knees, started to get to his feet.
Atlanta leveled her frygun and gave him a second blast. He caught it full-face, and went kicking backwards, landing amidst the scattered waste paper which had been thrown about the office by his entering stratagem. Then Atlanta gave him a third blast, a long prolonged blast which set the floor alight.
A ghost escaped from Om's drying body. Breaking free, it drifted upward, shedding rags of ghostly flame. Om's corpse lay on the burning floor amidst crumpled balls of burning wastepaper. The room was full of the hot, sweating heat of close-quarters frygun blasting. It stank of burnt flesh, and was rapidly starting to fill with smoke. [NoP Ch17]

Category: ooltechnology
Tags: eoh nop ool woh

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