in the
light gravity, ascended rapidly.

"Careful," warned Docchi.

"This is no time to be careful." His voice floated down from high in
the lacy structure. It wasn't completely dark; the lights were getting
nearer. Docchi decided it was possible for Jordan to see what he was
doing.

They hadn't expected to be discovered so soon. But the issue had not
yet been settled against them. Docchi settled into a long stride,
avoiding the low-slung repair robots that seemed to be everywhere. If
Jordan 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 was
enough, however. The ship's passenger and freight locks were closed.
Nona had either not understood all their instructions, or she hadn't
been able to carry them out. The first, probably. She had put the
light and scanning circuits out of commission with no tools except her
hands. That and her uncanny knowledge of the inner workings of
machines. It was too much to expect that she should also have the ship
ready and waiting for them.

It was up to him to get in. If he had the toaster they'd taken from
the pilot, he might have been able to soften the proper area of the
passenger lock. But he didn't. Not having arms, he couldn't have used
it. For that reason Jordan had kept the weapon.

The alternative was to search the surrounding mechanical jungle for an
external control of the rocket. There had to be one, at least for the
airlocks. Then it was a matter of luck whether he could work it.

The approaching lights warned him that he no longer had that
alternative. If Cameron hadn't tried to search the rocket dome as he
came 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. Would
Cameron know that? He might not.

Docchi descended into the shallow landing pit. Until both of them were
caught, there was always a chance. He had to hide, but the landing pit
seemed remarkably ill-suited for that purpose.

He leaned against the stern tube cluster and tried to shake his brain
into activity. The metal pressed hard into the thin flesh that covered
his back. In the smooth glazed surface of the landing pit, the only
answer was the tubes.

He straightened up and looked into them. A small boy m