"Here's Fifth Avenue," Jeff said, rounding the corner of a wall, "and pretty soon we'll be home and ready for a nice breakfast."

"And a plug into the socket for me," said Norby. "Don't forget my needs."

They started out across the sidewalk, hand in hand. They had nearly reached the curb when Jeff said in a tense, low voice, "Oh, no!"

"What? What?" said Norby.

"Get back!" whispered Jeff, turning and taking sudden long strides.

Norby went over backwards, and his barrel body made ominous scraping noises on the sidewalk until Jeff shook the robot's arm. "Turn on your antigrav a little!" he whispered.

They melted back into the nearest bush.

"I don't suppose you care to tell me what's happening," Norby said in an aggrieved tone. "I'm just a robot, I suppose. You think I'm just a hunk of steel, I suppose. I don't have any-"

Jeff caught his breath. "Shut up," he said, still panting a little. "Why don't you use your eyes instead of that noisy rattle you call a voice? Can't you see there are men in uniform around the apartment house?"

"Cops?" said Norby.

"Those aren't police uniforms."

"Sanitation men? Park Security? Hotel doormen?"

"Is this a time to be funny? I think they're Ing's men. And if they're strong enough and bold enough to conduct a raid-"

Jeff was talking to himself rather than to Norby, but Norby interrupted. "Maybe they've taken over the city."

"I don't see how they can have done that. Manhattan Island runs itself-sort of-and insists on having no outside armed force on its acres, but even so-"

"If it's just a raid," Norby said, "they're taking a big chance and they have to be after something important. I guess they must be after me."

"You?"

"Who else? It's our apartment house, isn't it? And you and I live there, and we've just had a fight with two of Ing's men and it can't be you they're after, so it's got to be me. That's logic. I'm very good at logic."

"Why does it have to be you? Why can't it be me?"

Norby made a sound like a snort and didn't answer. "They can't have taken the whole city," he said. "Albany Jones approaches."

A police hover-car was circling above, moving slowly as though searching for something. The uniformed men guarding the entrance to the building shot at the car without effect.

"How do you know it's Albany?" Jeff asked.

"It's her car. I don't know if she's in it, of course, but it's her car. I tune into motors. It's very simple to recognize one from another. That's one of the things I could teach you besides languages. Don't forget I'm a teaching robot. Languages are my specialty, but I'm sure I could manage a few other things."

The hovering police car dropped a spine-cluster into the midst of the men below. Understandably, the result was panic. Some of the men dived for the doorway and the others for the two ends of the block. When a spine-cluster explodes, the results are felt only in the immediate vicinity and are not fatal, but those at the receiving end feel as if they've tangled with twenty porcupines. And removing the spines is neither easy nor painless.

Street traffic diverted quickly as drivers recognized that a fight was going on.

"Why don't you signal the hover-car?" Norby said. "It has to know where we are."

"I was about to," said Jeff, waving energetically from behind the bush. The police car sank downward slightly, and something fell out. Jeff tried to catch it, misjudged, and received it roughly on his right shoulder.

"Ouch!" he groaned. "Ever since I met you, Norby, things have been falling on me, or I have been falling on things. I feel black and blue allover. Why didn't you catch it? You can't be hurt."

"My feelings can. And with you lurching around trying to catch it, what could I do? You nearly stepped on me as it was."

Jeff was still rubbing his shoulder. "What is this?"

"It's the same belt device that Albany was wearing in Central Park-a personal shield. If you use it, Ing's men won't be able to touch you."

"But how am I going to use it? I don't know how it works."

"That's why you have me. I know how it works. I've already deciphered its simple mechanism. Put it on, then turn this switch here when you need protection. Your arms go in these places. No, no, that metal part goes in front. Can't you see?"

"That metal part," grumbled Jeff, "is what hit my shoulder. Is it on right now?"

"Yes," said Norby, "though actually I'm plenty of protection for you anytime."

"Anytime there's no danger." Jeff turned the switch on the belt and was instantly aware of the faint radiance that surrounded him. The street, the sky, and the buildings all took on a slightly yellow tinge that made everything look particularly bright and cheerful.

Norby didn't sound cheerful, however. "Jeff! I can't get through to you."

"Sure you can, Norby. I hear you perfectly."

"I don't mean that. I mean I'm outside the field."

Jeff turned off the field, picked up Norby, and turned the field back on. The personal shield enveloped them both.

"What's the difference?" Jeff said. "You can't be hurt, and if you can protect me, you can surely protect yourself."

"I get lonely," said Norby.

The police car had descended nearly to surface level. Albany leaned out and shouted, "Get in! Hurry! Those Ingrates are corning up with a full-sized blaster."

Jeff tried to climb aboard with Norby desperately hanging onto him. Norby activated his antigrav and it came on so strongly that Jeff found himself turning upside down. Albany pulled him in. "Goodness," she said, "you and that barrel are light. Don't you have any insides?"

Jeff could hear shouting and heavy footsteps behind him. There was the sound of an unpleasant explosion as the car zoomed upward. It shook in the air vibrations but remained untouched.

"Ing's men seized the police station," Albany said. "They came right behind me. They may have seized all the police stations in Manhattan." She bit her lip and shook her head. "I'm afraid we've underestimated the Ingrates. They always seemed a minor nuisance, a bunch of inept terrorists. But it's clear now that that was just a screen. They've set up a formidable force, and they're prepared to take over the system."

"How did you get away?" Jeff asked anxiously.

"My personal shield, of course. I must tell my father to get the City Council to equip all the cops with shields. But I suppose it's too late now, at least for Manhattan. It's Space Command that-"

"But what about Fargo?" Jeff said anxiously.

Albany swallowed. Her brows contracted unhappily over her large eyes. "The truth is I don't know. They grabbed him when they came out of the police transmit, and I was so busy getting away I had no chance to see what became of him. He had given me his address when I was taking him to the station." She looked a little guilty. "We always get the names and addresses of those we take into custody," she added. "Purely routine."

"Yes, yes," said Jeff, who wanted her to get to the point. What had happened to Fargo?

"I drifted by the apartment house, just in case he had gotten away and gone there. I had no idea where else he might go. When I saw the house guarded by the Ingrates, I thought he might have been trapped in the vicinity. Then, of course, I found you. " She said that with a certain note of disappointment.

Jeff disregarded that. "Then you don't know where Fargo is?"

"No. I'm afraid I don't. What we've got to do now is to find a transmit in Manhattan that hasn't been taken over by the Ingrates. We've got to notify Space Command, or the Ingrates may be able to take over all Earth. They wouldn't attack Manhattan unless they've already seized the key communications network. That's what worries me." She paused and looked solemnly at Jeff. "If we can't notify Space Command-"