arrow. It stared at
him like a skull, the shutters completely dilated, but no glow of life
from the tubes behind them.

He was scraping the mud from the number on the battered chestplate when
Druce lowered himself into the tunnel and flashed the brilliant beam of
a hand-spot down its length.

"Stop playing with that junk and get digging--or you'll end up the same
as him. This tunnel has gotta be through by tonight."

Jon put the dismembered parts on the barrow with the sand and rock and
pushed the whole load back up the tunnel, his thoughts running in
unhappy circles. A dead robot was a terrible thing, and one of his
family too. But there was something wrong about this robot, something
that was quite inexplicable, the number on the plate had been "17," yet
he remembered only too well the day that a water-shorted motor had
killed Venex 17 in the Orange Sea.

It took Jon four hours to drive the tunnel as far as the ancient granite
wall of the storm sewer. Druce gave him a short pinch bar and he levered
out enough of the big blocks to make a hole large enough to let him
through into the sewer.

When he climbed back into the office he tried to look casual as he
dropped the pinch bar to the floor by his feet and seated himself on the
pile of rubble in the corner. He moved around to make a comfortable seat
for himself and his fingers grabbed the severed neck of Venex 17.

Coleman swiveled around in his chair and squinted at the wall clock. He
checked the time against his tie-pin watch, with a grunt of satisfaction
he turned back and stabbed a finger at Jon.

"Listen, you green junk-pile, at 1900 hours you're going to do a job,
and there aren't going to be any slip ups. You go down that sewer and
into the Hudson River. The outlet is under water, so you won't be seen
from the docks. Climb down to the bottom and walk 200 yards north, that
should put you just under a ship. Keep your eyes open, _but don't show
any lights_! About halfway down the keel of the ship you'll find a chain
hanging.

"Climb the chain, pull loose the box that's fastened to the hull at the
top and bring it back here. No mistakes--or you know what happens."

Jon nodded his head. His busy fingers had been separating the wires in
the amputated neck. When they had been straightened and put into a row
he memorized their order with one flashing glance.

He ran over the color code in his mind and compared it with the
memorized leads. The twelfth wire wa