be a super mech. The
criminals must have stolen one or two super mechs and were using them in
this robbery.

He was ruthless, then. He wrenched away the other arm. He battered at
the unseen torso. The feet of the desperate mech smashed at his knees
and thighs, staggering him. Then he bore the armless torso of the mech
backward and fell upon it.

The mech went limp, its mentrols blanked by the distant criminal who
controlled it.

Duggan came to his feet, listening for the sound of battle between
Rusche and his captive. It came from his right, faintly. About ten feet
distant, he judged it. And now the emergency vents were clearing the
darkness from the travel strips. Twilight faded and vision replaced it.

Rusche was sitting astride a prone body, and even as Duggan reached his
side the struggling criminal's arms and legs went limp. Rusche grunted
and started to stand.

"A super mech!" he said. He rubbed thoughtfully at his disarranged nose
and cheeks, smoothing them again into their normal contours. "What about
yours?"

"The same."

"Here's their loot, anyhow," Rusche said, holding up a small gray
plastine bag.

"Drop it, Ted. We better fade out of here before the Squads arrive, too.
They might think we're--"

"Not on your life, Al. We should get a reward. Pics on the newswires and
tapes."

Duggan shrugged and smoothed at his own neck and face. Four
red-uniformed men, their heads hidden by ovoid gas helmets, came hissing
toward them along the travel strip. They rode single-wheeled cycles and
their rapid-fire expoders were trained on them.

"Careful now, Ted. Let me do the talking. They like to use paralysis
needles and question later."

"But--"

"I've lived up here."

The unicycles braked to a halt.

"Step over here, slow," ordered one of the Squadmen.

Duggan obeyed, careful to keep his arms rigid. Of course paralysis
needles would cause this mech body no damage, but why make trouble? They
_had_ more destructive weapons.

"Ran into us," he said mildly. "We figured something wrong--honest men
would be standing where they were. We stopped them."

The four members of the Squad were inspecting the damage.

"I guess you did," one of them said, admiringly. "You must be super
mechs too?"

"That's right. I'm Duggan, Al--Merle Duggan, and this is my friend, Ted
Rusche. We work on the 80th Level--rockhounds."

"Duggan?" The man's voice was suddenly strained. "Maybe you're not so
clear as you pretend.