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the umbilical connecting them to theCygnus. Only the dim circle of light from the distant reception room
showed on the screen.
The sentries handled McCrae forcefully but with care as they pushed her toward the circular operating
platform. Apparently Reinhardt s instructions had been explicit: control her, but don t hurt her.Don t
damage the goods, she thought furiously. Her anger helped moderate the terror that threatened to
overcome her.
She tried to analyze the operating theater as the machines efficiently strapped her into one of the molded
recesses. The multihued lighting felt harsh on her eyes. Probably it did not trouble the surgeons that were
not-men. Two of them stood silently nearby, wait-ing for their next subject to be properly secured.
Surely they would apply some form of anesthesia be-fore they began work. Surely.
Overhead she recognized the fairly standard assort-ment of narrow-beam, high-intensity lasers. They
were capable of cutting flesh or bone to within microscopic tolerances. Nearby were lengths of thin
tubing for sup-plying or draining organic fluids, as might be required, and other instruments for inserting
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various artificial devices.
She was so familiar with the arrangement because she had lain on a similar table once before. Idly she
wondered if the size of the module to be inserted into her brain was larger or smaller than the esplink
already there. She also wondered how much of herself would have to be removed. Or disconnected.
At least she no longer worried about screaming. She was too frightened.
We re coming, Dr. Kate, a familiar voice said comfortingly inside her head.
Vincent . . . hurry . . . please . . . She could not allow herself the luxury of lapsing into hysteria. That
would foil esplink communication.
Lights came on in the instrument-laden dome over-head.Anesthesia, she thought frantically.Please . . .
I m still conscious!She was being rotated toward the deceptively dull cluster of lights.
Please...
The lights vanished, subsumed in a series of far more intense flares. She turned her head away as cooling
but still hot bits of metal and plastic rained down around her. Looking back the other way, she saw
Holland. He was standing in the doorway, flanked by two hovering machines. A crazy quilt of energy
beams flashed from their weapons. An occasional op-posing beam scored walls or floor around them.
Bob, stop that thing and get her out of here! We ll cover you.
Holland ran right, Vincent the other way, firing at anything that moved and trying to dodge the
counter-shots of the surprised sentries in the room. Pieces of wall and machinery were flying in all
directions. The noise from exploding components and torn alloy was deafening.
Still waiting for their instrumentation to respond to their instructions, the two humanoid surgeons stood
dully nearby. Then one turned and reached to activate the nearby wall communicator. Holland and
Vincent noticed the movement at the same time. Two beams struck the surgeon in tandem. What was left
of him tumbled into another sentry, throwing it off-balance and knocking it backward; it fell beneath
several of the now malfunctioning surgical lasers toward which McCrae was still drifting.
Stand aside, Bob. Holland took careful aim at the dangerously erratic mechanism and fired several
times, making sure it was rendered completely inoperative. Bob then hurried to free McCrae, but sensed
nearby motion of a belligerent nature and called out.
Behind you, Mr. Holland!
The captain whirled as three sentry robots crashed through the doorway recently vacated by the
invaders. Before Holland could fire, Vincent popped up unex-pectedly from behind a bulky storage
cylinder blocking the path inward. Three arms extended pistonlike. Par-tially decapitated, the three
sentries collapsed on the deck.
Holland turned his attention to McCrae. Bob was helping her off the platform. You all right?
She nodded, managed a sickly smile. I ll be better when we re back aboard thePalomino.
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Wordlessly, he handed her a weapon and con-sidered what to do next. It was unthinkable that
Rein-hardt would permit them to return to their ship with McCrae. He wanted her too much.
Aboard thePalomino, Pizer was wishing he had a certain neck under his thumbs when the console
buzzed for attention. Dan... that you?
You re receiving us?
Loud and clear. What s happened?
Kate s okay. We re on our way back.
What about pursuit?
Scrap behind us, so far nothing in front of us. Hope it stays that way. Out.
Palominoout. He leaned back in his seat, re-lieved.
Booth was not. He was worriedly studying his wrist chronometer. They re cutting it close. We re
running out of time. Reinhardt s going to have to engage his primary drive pretty soon. Then it ll be too
late for us to break clear.
He wants us, and Vincent, free to monitor his dive, remember?
We ve caused him a lot of trouble, Charlie. I know his type. Before long he s going to decide Kate s
not worth the trouble. Then we ll all be dragged in.
Several sentry robots arrived and cautiously entered the smoking operating theater. A door opened and
a pair of humanoids appeared, started out past the sen-tries. The guards ignored them, moved to open
another closed door.
Whirling, the larger humanoid blasted the guards with a concealed laser. As soon as the sentries were
downed, Bob and Vincent emerged from the room about to be searched. They hurried after their
disguised companions.
Unfortunately, the section of corridor they were re-treating down was one of those covered by remote
op-tical monitors. Having watched the previous action dispassionately, Reinhardt now addressed the
huge machine hovering alongside him with equal unconcern.
Maximillian, tell the sentries to fire on any hu-manoids between Medical Station and thePalomino.
Instruct them to aim for the lower limbs. I still want the woman alive, if possible.
Maximillian hummed a response, communicated with the patrolling sentries far more rapidly and
effi-ciently than Reinhardt could.
Holland and the others entered a main corridor. Waiting sentries immediately opened fire from a far
catwalk. The beams just missed the startled Holland. He ducked back into a side passage and joined his
companions in returning the fire.
They re onto us.
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Headgear was removed. McCrae shook hair from her face. Well, the costume got us this far. She
threw the reflective faceplate out into the corridor. It drew several shots before it was incinerated. The
distraction enabled her to knock one guard off his elevated perch.
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