'Is that Hightop or the computer?'
<That was Hightop,> the computer answered.
'Why shouldn't we get on the elevator? What's down there?'
<Hightop's gone. He got out of the chair.>
Laura raced for the stairs. When she reached the lower level and turned toward the elevator, she saw that the corridor was empty. The elevator doors were still open, however, and she snatched her black rifle from against the wall and dashed into the car just in time. She collapsed into the seat next to Gray.
'Hightop said don't go,' she reported, out of breath. The doors closed and the cool voice of the countdown began. Laura got the straps on quietly, but there was something on the seat under her, and she squirmed. She thought she was sitting on the loose end of one of the bolts, but as the countdown neared zero she probed the straps and found both ends. She felt the cushion underneath her and found the cause of her discomfort. The three men watched her twist as she retrieved the hard object. She held it out in the palm of her hand.
The spent rifle cartridge was still warm, and its brass was smudged with powder burns. The elevator began its powered descent, and the cartridge fell from Laura's hand to the ceiling.
At the opposite end of the long shaft, the rifle pressed on Laura's lap under the tremendous downward tug of deceleration. The noise of the motor and the popping of their ears prevented them from hearing the gunfire until the doors opened.
A single rifle roared in long bursts, but when the two soldiers made it out the elevator door their weapons added to the thunder in the enclosed space. Gray and Laura were last out — Gray stopping at the elevator door to hit a button holding the car there.
'Incoming!' Hoblenz shouted just as fragments splattered from the concrete wall beside Gray. A large hole marred its previously smooth surface.
'What the hell was that?' Gray yelled, after diving behind an overturned table.
'Nail gun!' Hoblenz shouted before firing at the corridor that led to Griffith's jury-rigged control room. 'Their equipment belts have nail guns and blowtorches!'
Gray didn't appear to have heard Hoblenz. Laura followed his eyes to the cafeteria floor. Two soldiers from Hoblenz's group lay dead.
Just minutes before they had volunteered to get in that elevator. Now their bones were broken in a dozen places — that much could be seen even from a distance — and one's neck was bent at an impossible angle.
As horrific as the sight was to Laura, the expression on Gray's face frightened her more. He was staring at the bodies with a haunted look on his face, and she feared he might crack right there.
But instead he raised his rifle and loosed a burst. The bullets struck right in the face of a Model Eight, who peered tentatively around a pockmarked wall. But the bullets seemed to have little effect.
'These full metal jackets don't penetrate enough to 'em!' Hoblenz reported from the other side of Laura. The two newly arrived soldiers were working their way across the room to get a better shot down the corridor, overturning tables along the way for cover.
'Look out!' one of the soldiers yelled as he opened fire.
Laura stared as a metal desk spun end over end through the air. It flew over her head and crashed into the wall behind her.
Laura barely even ducked. In shock, she marveled at the strength of the robot — at how much force it had imparted to its projectile.
Hoblenz groaned, wincing as he held his ribcage. 'Are you all right?'
His grimace served only to make him look angry. He struggled to his knees, favoring his right side. 'I'm just fine,' he said through bared teeth.
'We've gotta pull back!' Gray shouted as Hoblenz reloaded.
'Can't! They got one of my men.' Gray and Laura both looked at the two broken bodies. Hoblenz had come down with three men. 'We were ready when the doors opened, but they were standin' right there. They jus' reached in and grabbed 'em. I couldn't do too much. Didn't wanna hit my men.'
The robot leaned out into the open momentarily, almost daring the soldiers to shoot. When the torrent of rifle fire arrived, it darted back behind the corner.
'Save your ammo!' Hoblenz yelled. 'That one's just been playin' hide-and-seek since we got down here. The nail gun is just a toy, I think. He even shot himself in the leg with it.'
'What happened to them?' Laura asked, nodding at the dead men sprawled on the concrete.
Hoblenz shook his head. 'Their bones were broken like dry sticks. You could hear 'em. The robots didn't do too much to 'em.'
He looked out at the piles in black uniforms. 'But it don't take too much to kill a man.'
Gray's eyes were on the bullet-riddled face of the Model Eight.
It stood almost totally exposed now that it was not drawing fire from the soldiers. 'They must be toddlers,' Gray said, his voice drained of inflection. 'Mr. Hoblenz, how did they move? Did they seem agile, or ungainly?'
'Well, they weren't exactly graceful. This place here was mostly torn up when the doors opened.'
'They're toddlers,' Gray concluded, 'between two and four months old.' He looked at Laura. 'They wouldn't have completed tactile training.'
Laura nodded slowly.
'Well,' Hoblenz said from behind Laura, 'whatever the hell that means, they took my man Tran down that way.' Hoblenz pointed down the corridor from which the robot taunted them. 'We gotta go get him.'
Gray nodded, checked his rifle, and rose from behind the table to walk into the open. 'Bring the explosives,' he said without taking his eyes off the robot. The two of them stood facing each other across the cluttered room. The Model Eight disappeared down the corridor.
Without warning Gray walked out into the maze of overturned furniture.
'Joseph!' Laura shouted.
'Hold your fire!' Hoblenz ordered.
Gray got down on one knee beside the bodies. With his fingertips he checked the arteries on the men's necks. In his other hand was the assault rifle's pistol grip.
Suddenly, the young robot rounded the corner. He held a metal filing cabinet that he appeared ready to sling one-handed.
The robot froze — staring at Gray, who rose to stand not ten meters in front of it. Even from where Laura crouched behind the table she could see the holes in the toddler's face and the deep indentations in the metal plates that covered his chest.
'Mr. Gray,' Hoblenz said loudly, not taking his eye from his rifle sight, 'I would advise you to back off without making any sudden moves!'
Laura glanced at the other two soldiers, whose rifles were also raised. She belatedly picked her own up and rested it on the table.
It made her nervous just thinking she might have to shoot, but she held the pistol grip as firmly as she could and aimed it in the general direction of the robot's head. 'Put that butt hard up on yer shoulder,' Hoblenz muttered quietly like some drill instructor. 'It kicks like hell.' Laura complied, more nervous than before.
The Model Eight held the filing cabinet in one hand, but its other arm hung limply by its side. Its shoulder was pierced by a tight grouping of holes.
Gray approached the robot gingerly. It was probably too young to understand spoken language, Laura reasoned. Gray moved closer, careful not to topple anything along the way. The robot appeared transfixed by the scene — by Gray.
When he was almost within reach of the robot, Gray held out his hand. With a loud crash the filing cabinet dropped to the floor.
Gray stood completely still, his hand extended to the Model Eight.
The robot's good arm rose, its three-fingered end effector wrapping around Gray's outstretched hand. Gray said something to the robot, nodding down the corridor.
The robot turned very carefully. It appeared to make certain not to move too quickly for the human. They headed off toward the control room Laura had visited earlier. The robot was stooped over and holding Gray's hand with obvious care.
