st man you ever met--he hates robots so be _ever_ so
polite. If you can use 'sir' five times in one sentence you're perfectly
safe."

Jon swept the shutter over one eye tube in a conspiratorial wink, the
large mech did the same as he rolled away. Jon turned and went down the
dusty stairwell and knocked gently on Mr. Coleman's door.

Coleman was a plump little individual in a conservative
purple-and-yellow business suit. He kept glancing from Jon to the Robot
General Catalog checking the Venex specifications listed there.
Seemingly satisfied he slammed the book shut.

"Gimme your tag and back against that wall to get measured."

Jon laid his ID tag on the desk and stepped towards the wall. "Yes, sir,
here it is, sir." Two "sir" on that one, not bad for the first sentence.
He wondered idly if he could put five of them in one sentence without
the man knowing he was being made a fool of.

He became aware of the danger an instant too late. The current surged
through the powerful electromagnet behind the plaster flattening his
metal body helplessly against the wall. Coleman was almost dancing with
glee.

"We got him, Druce, he's mashed flatter than a stinking tin-can on a
rock, can't move a motor. Bring that junk in here and let's get him
ready."

Druce had a mechanic's coveralls on over his street suit and a tool box
slung under one arm. He carried a little black metal can at arm's
length, trying to get as far from it as possible. Coleman shouted at him
with annoyance.

"That bomb can't go off until it's armed, stop acting like a child. Put
it on that grease-can's leg and _quick_!"

Grumbling under his breath, Druce spot-welded the metal flanges of the
bomb onto Jon's leg a few inches above his knee. Coleman tugged at it to
be certain it was secure, then twisted a knob in the side and pulled out
a glistening length of pin. There was a cold little click from inside
the mechanism as it armed itself.

Jon could do nothing except watch, even his vocal diaphragm was locked
by the magnetic field. He had more than a suspicion however that he was
involved in something other than a "secret business deal." He cursed his
own stupidity for walking blindly into the situation.

The magnetic field cut off and he instantly raced his extensor motors to
leap forward. Coleman took a plastic box out of his pocket and held his
thumb over a switch inset into its top.

"Don't make any quick moves, junk-yard, this little transmitter