e tried to stand but
his legs were almost too weak and his arm felt numb. "I'll drown him,"
he said aloud. "I'll drown the Lord High Executioner." He laughed. Then
his mind cleared. He remembered where he was.

* * * * *

Alan trembled. For the first time in his life he understood what it was
to live, because for the first time he realized that he would sometime
die. In other times and circumstances he might put it off for a while,
for months or years, but eventually, as now, he would have to watch,
still and helpless, while death came creeping. Then, at thirty, Alan
became a man.

"Dammit, no law says I have to flame-out _now_!" He forced himself to
rise, forced his legs to stand, struggling painfully in the shin-deep
ooze. He worked his way to the bank and began to dig frenziedly, chest
high, about two feet below the edge.

His arm where the black thing had been was swollen and tender, but he
forced his hands to dig, dig, dig, cursing and crying to hide the pain,
and biting his lips, ignoring the salty taste of blood. The soft earth
crumbled under his hands until he had a small cave about three feet deep
in the bank. Beyond that the soil was held too tightly by the roots from
above and he had to stop.

* * * * *

The air crackled blue and a tree crashed heavily past Alan into the
stream. Above him on the bank, silhouetting against the moons, the
killer robot stopped and its blaster swivelled slowly down. Frantically,
Alan hugged the bank as a shaft of pure electricity arced over him,
sliced into the water, and exploded in a cloud of steam. The robot shook
for a second, its blaster muzzle lifted erratically and for an instant
it seemed almost out of control, then it quieted and the muzzle again
pointed down.

Pressing with all his might, Alan slid slowly along the bank inches at a
time, away from the machine above. Its muzzle turned to follow him but
the edge of the bank blocked its aim. Grinding forward a couple of feet,
slightly overhanging the bank, the robot fired again. For a split second
Alan seemed engulfed in flame; the heat of hell singed his head and
back, and mud boiled in the bank by his arm.

Again the robot trembled. It jerked forward a foot and its blaster swung
slightly away. But only for a moment. Then the gun swung back again.

Suddenly, as if sensing something wrong, its tracks slammed into
reverse. It stood poised for a second,