Hosato studied the drawings. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to an unlabeled outline, forgetting for a moment Suzi’s limited powers of observation.

“That’s the Maintenance Building,” the redhead commented, peering over his shoulder. “Hey, that’s a pretty neat robot. Who manufactures it?”

Hosato ignored her. “What’s the story on the life-support systems, Suzi?” he asked.

“Life-support systems for the living quarters and mall are self-contained and independent of the main computer control. They are located at this point.” An area of the layout diagram began to Sash.

“Bad news, Hosato,” Sasha interrupted. “The robots have the spaceport.”

“Could someone tell me what’s going on?” the redhead whined.

“What about the armory?”

“The robots have that, too,” Sasha informed him. “My team managed to get some of the blasters out before the robots closed in, but not many. I’ve told them to pull back to the mall here to concentrate our forces.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Stand back,” Hosato hissed, motioning them away from the door.

With a fluid motion he rolled to the floor and lay, blaster ready, in front of the door.

“Who is it?” he called.

“James Turner,” came the muffled response.

“Come on in, James,” Hosato called back, his blaster never wavering.

The door burst open and the boy hurried into the room.

“There’s firing in the…”

He stopped short, gaping at Hosato’s blaster leveled at his midsection.

“Shut the door,” Hosato ordered.

The boy groped behind him and closed the door, his eyes never leaving the blaster.

“Never mind Hosato,” Sasha said briskly, stepping to his side. “He’s a bit jumpy. We all are. What were you saying about firing?”

The boy gulped. “There’s somebody’s firing blasters in the main corridor. The one leading to the rest of the complex.”

Sasha swore absently. “That means they’re on the way,” she growled at last. “I’d better get down there and organize the defense.”

“Wait a minute, Sasha,” Hosato said, rolling to his feet. “Is there any other way out of the complex. One humans can use?”

“What?”

“Wake up. We can’t hold them forever. They’re probably manufacturing more while we’re talking. We may have to evacuate the complex. Now, besides the spaceport, how can we get people out of here?”

Sasha thought for a moment. “I can’t think of any—”

“How about the sand crawlers?” James interrupted. “The maintenance crews use them for gathering malfunctioning robots. They let me ride along with them a couple of times.”

“How big are they and how many are there?”

“They can hold six, maybe ten in a pinch,” Sasha supplied. “And there are only two of them.”

Hosato grimaced. “It’s not much, but it’s all we’ve got. James, you and… What is your name, anyway?”

“Since you asked so nicely, it’s Carolyn,” the redhead retorted.

“Okay, you and Carolyn start going through the living quarters. Tell everybody to move down to the Maintenance Building. Don’t take time to try to explain why, just tell them to do it and keep moving. Sasha will be organizing the corridor defense, and Suri and I will go ahead to check the status on the sand crawlers… Does that sound all right, Sasha?”

The last was added as he remembered his manners. He was starting to take command again.

“Sounds good to me,” she replied, unruffled. “Do you have any more blasters to spare?”

“Just one, and that’s mine,” Hosato apologized.

She made a face at him. “Some spy. Well, let’s go.”

“Spy?” asked James, looking at Hosato.

“Later, James. Like the lady says, let’s go.”

The mall was a madhouse. Crowds of people were milling around in various stages of confusion and panic. Disembodied hands seemed to pluck at Hosato’s sleeve as he and Suzi traversed the corridors. Voices babbled questions and demands at him, but he shrugged them off without breaking stride. The few who noticed he was carrying a blaster hurried to catch up with him, only to find his smooth pace deceptively fast.

Sasha had disappeared shortly after they left his room, but he assumed she was following her own route through the chaos. He could not waste energy worrying about her. She had her job and seemed competent enough to handle it. He had his. He had to make it to Maintenance, hopefully ahead of the crowds.

The narrow off-corridor to the Maintenance Building was unoccupied. Apparently no one else had recognized it as a possible avenue of escape. After the dimness of the mall, Hosato found the silence unnerving, and without realizing it, began carrying his blaster at the ready position.

The metal door at the end of the corridor was closed. A prickly, chilly sensation ran along Hosato’s spine. He hesitated, then made his decision. He hadn’t survived this long by ignoring his warning instincts. Motioning Suzi back against the wall, he bent and sealed his suit. Then, gripping his blaster, he reached out and jerked the door open.

The Maintenance Building was a wreck. Three men who had been huddled over something on the floor sprang apart and desperately dived for cover behind workbenches and boxes. As they scattered, Hosato saw they had been at work dismantling a security robot. Beyond it, several bodies lay on the floor.

“Who’s there?” a shaky voice called out, and Hosato heard the quick scrabble as the man changed positions after speaking.

Stepping back into the corridor, out of their line of vision, Hosato broke the seals and rearranged his Ninja suit as he replied. “Hayama,” he called. “I’ve got my robot with me, but she’s stable and functioning normally.”

“Come on ahead, Hayama,” came a new voice Hosato recognized as Rick Handel’s. “It’s all right, you guys. I know him.”

By the time Hosato reentered the room, two of the men had resumed their work with the fallen robot, leaving only Rick to greet him.

“Hayama, do you know anything about what the hell’s going on?”

“I was just about to ask you. It looks like you’ve had a firsthand taste of the action here,” Hosato observed. “All I know is, somehow Turner’s security-robot plans backfired, and now we’ve got a pack of robots taking the place apart and killing anyone who crosses their path.”

“Turner, huh. Well, that’s one bit of information we didn’t have. We got a call a while back that there were a couple of malfunctioning robots headed for the president’s office wouldn’t respond to commands, they said. We sent a team out on the hustle, then got another call saying those 'bots had just broken into some high-level meeting and killed everybody in the place, including our section chief. We were trying to raise our team on the beepers to warn them off before they walked into a bad situation, when Mr. Personality there burst through the door and started burning everybody in sight.”

He jerked his head toward the downed machine.

“Lucky for us, it could shoot in only one direction at a time, and it picked the wrong direction to start. Doc, there, has had some combat training and smashed in its front with a crescent wrench before any of the rest of us could move. We’ve been trying to find out what makes it lock instead of tick, but so far we can’t figure it.”

“Well, you haven’t got much time,” Hosato observed grimly. “The things are in the main corridor to the mall.”

“Oh, lord!” Rick exclaimed, his eyes widening.

“That’s right. Sasha and her security team are trying to stall them, but they can’t hold them for long. We’re trying to work out an evacuation plan, but we’ll need your help. The spaceport’s gone, so we’ll have to use the sand crawlers. Where are they?”

“Through there.” Rick pointed to a door at the rear of the shop. “There’s an airlock at the far end of the garage that gives direct access to the surface area, but only one crawler is operational. The other one’s half apart for preventive maintenance. It’s scattered all over the garage.”