barelyvisible silhouette. "Well, I see you're getting smart. You should dothat all the time. You look better that way, even if they're notusable arms. You look...." His voice faded away.
"Sure, almost human," Docchi finished for him. "Not like a pair oflegs and a spinal column with a lightning bug stuck on top."
"I didn't say that. So you're sensitive about it, eh? Maybe that's notyour fault. Anyway, you'd better get going."
"But I don't want to go," said Docchi deliberately. "I'm not afraid ofthe dark. Are you?"
"Cut the psycho talk, Docchi. All your circuits are working and youknow it. Now get out of here before I take your fake hand and drag youout."
"Now you've hurt my feelings," declared Docchi reproachfully, nimblystepping away.
"You asked for it," growled the pilot, lunging after him. What he tookhold of wasn't an imitation hand, made of plastic. It was flesh andblood. That was why the pilot screamed, once, before he was lifted offhis feet and slammed to the floor.
Docchi bent double. The dark figure on his back came over his headlike a sword from a scabbard.
"Jor--"
"Yeah," said Jordan.
He wrapped one arm around the pilot's throat and clamped it tight.With the other he felt for the toaster the pilot still held.Effortlessly he tore it away and used the butt with just enough forceto knock the pilot unconscious without smashing the skull. Docchistood by until it was over. All he could offer was an ineffectualkick, not balanced by arms.
It wasn't needed.
"Let there be light," ordered Jordan, laughing, and there was, afeeble, flickering illumination from Docchi.
Jordan was balancing himself on his hands. A strong head, massive,powerful arms and shoulders. His body ended at his chest. A roundmetal capsule contained his digestive system.
"Dead?" Docchi looked down at the pilot.
Jordan rocked forward and listened for the heartbeat. "Nah," he said."I remembered in time that we can't afford to kill anyone."
"Good," said Docchi, and stifled an exclamation as something coiledaround his leg. His reactions were fast; he broke loose almostinstantly.
"Repair robot," said Jordan, looking around. "The place is lousy withthem."
Docchi blinked on and off involuntarily and the robot came toward him.
"Friendly creature," observed Jordan. "He's offering to fix yourlighting system for you."
Docchi ignored the squat contrivance and stared at the pilot. "Nowwhat?" he asked.
"Agreed," said Jordan. "He needs attention. _Not_ the kind I gavehim." He balanced the toaster in his hand and burned a small hole inthe little wheeled monster. Tentacles emerged from the side of themachine and felt puzzledly at the damaged area. The tentacles werewithdrawn and presently reappeared with a small torch and beganwelding.
Jordan pulled the unconscious pilot toward him. He leaned against themachine, raised the inert form over his head and laid it gently on thetop flat surface. Another tentacle reached out to investigate the bodyof the pilot. Jordan welded the joints solid with the toaster. Threetimes he repeated the process until the pilot was fastened to therobot.
"The thing will stay here, repairing itself, until it's completelysound again," remarked Jordan. "However, that can be fixed." Headjusted the toaster beam to an imperceptible thickness. Deftly hesliced through the control case and removed a circular section. Hereached inside and ripped out circuits. "No further self-repair," hesaid cheerfully. "Now I'm going to need your help. From a timestand-point, I think it's a good idea to run the robot around themain dome a few times before it delivers the pilot to the hospital. Nopoint in giving ourselves away before we're ready."
Docchi bent over the robot, and with his help the proper sequence wasimplanted. The machine scurried erratically away.
Docchi watched it go. "Time for us to be on our way." He bent doublefor Jordan. The arms folded around his neck, but Jordan made no effortto climb up onto his back. For a panic moment Docchi knew how thepilot felt when strength, where there shouldn't have been strength,reached out from the darkness and gripped his throat.
He shook the thought from his mind. "Get on my back," he insisted.
"You're tired," said Jordan. "Half gravity or not, you can't carry meany farther." His fingers worked swiftly and the carrying harness fellto the floor. "Stay down," growled Jordan. "Listen."
Docchi listened. "Geepees!"
"Yeah," said Jordan. "Now get to the rocket."
"What can I do when I get there? You'll have to help me."
"You'll figure something out when the time comes. Hurry up!"
"Not without you," said Docchi stubbornly, without moving.
A huge paw clamped around the back of his skull. "Listen to me,"whispered Jordan fiercely. "Together we were a better man than thepilot--your legs and my arms. It's up to us to prove that separatelywe are a match for Cameron and his geepees."
"We're not trying to _prove_ anything," said Docchi.
A brilliant light sliced through the darkness and swept around therocket dome.
"Maybe we are," said Jordan. Impatiently, he hitched himself along theground. "I think I am."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going up. With no legs, that's where I belong."
He grasped the structural steel member in his great hands, and in thelight gravity, ascended rapidly.
"Careful," warned Docchi.
"This is no time to be careful." His voice floated down from high inthe lacy structure. It wasn't completely dark; the lights were gettingnearer. Docchi decided it was possible for Jordan to see what he wasdoing.
They hadn't expected to be discovered so soon. But the issue had notyet been settled against them. Docchi settled into a long stride,avoiding the low-slung repair robots that seemed to be everywhere. IfJordan refused to give up, Docchi had to try.
He stayed well ahead of the oncoming general purpose robots.
* * * * *
He reached the rocket and barely had time to look around. It wasenough, however. The ship's passenger and freight locks were closed.Nona had either not understood all their instructions, or she hadn'tbeen able to carry them out. The first, probably. She had put thelight and scanning circuits out of commission with no tools except herhands. That and her uncanny knowledge of the inner workings ofmachines. It was too much to expect that she should also have the shipready and waiting for them.
It was up to him to get in. If he had the toaster they'd taken fromthe pilot, he might have been able to soften the proper area of thepassenger lock. But he didn't. Not having arms, he couldn't have usedit. For that reason Jordan had kept the weapon.
The alternative was to search the surrounding mechanical jungle for anexternal control of the rocket. There had to be one, at least for theairlocks. Then it was a matter of luck whether he could work it.
The approaching lights warned him that he no longer had thatalternative. If Cameron hadn't tried to search the rocket dome as hecame along, the geepees would be solidly ringed around the ship now.That was Cameron's mistake, however, and he might make more.
In all probability Jordan was still at large. Perhaps nearby. WouldCameron know that? He might not.
Docchi descended into the shallow landing pit. Until both of them werecaught, there was always a chance. He had to hide, but the landing pitseemed remarkably ill-suited for that purpose.
He leaned against the stern tube cluster and tried to shake his braininto activity. The metal pressed hard into the thin flesh that coveredhis back. In the smooth glazed surface of the landing pit, the onlyanswer was the tubes.
He straightened up and looked into them. A small boy might climbinside and crawl out of sight. Or a grown man who had no shoulders orarms to get wedged in the narrow cylinder.
Out in space, the inner ends of the tubes were closed with acombustion cap wherein the fuel was ignited. But in the dome, wherethe ship was not used for months at a time....
Yes, there was that possibility.
He tried a lower tube. He lay on the floor and thrust his head inside.He wriggled and shoved with his feet until he had forced himselfentirely in. It was dark and terrifying, but no time forclaustrophobia.
He stopped momentarily and listened. A geepee descended noisily intothe landing pit. The absence of any other sound indicated to Docchithat it was radio-controlled.
He drove himself on, though it was slow progress. The walls weresmooth and it was difficult to get much purchase. The going becameeven tougher--the tube was getting smaller. Not much, but enough tomatter.
Again he stopped.
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