"Go get your rifle and keep it with you. Maybe a grenade. I don't know what you've got on you. I've already broadcast a message to that doctor we met."
"Then you do think it's his man?"
"You have to admit it sounds that way. Let us not take chances."
"I'm not arguing."
Red set his stein on a ledge, turned toward his truck.
"Uh-oh, Flowers," he announced. "Something airborne from that direction, and it ain't no bird."
"I'm tracking. That's it. You might still be able to get the rifle, if you run."
"Oh, the hell with it," Red said, unwrapping a fresh cigar and lighting it. "It would just get in the way. You might get a chance to try that brand-new routine, though."
He retrieved his beer and seated himself on the edge of the veranda.
"I've had an acknowledgment from the physician. He is near, and he's on his way."
"Great."
He opened Flowers and read a few lines.
"I must say, you're taking it very philosophically."
"Well, isn't this the way to go—with a drink, a cigar and a good book?"
"The preparations-do not seem entirely adequate."
"Maybe this is my place... And I've already caught a glimpse of the opposition "
"And?.. ."
"Here they come now."
The robot soared above the parking lot, slowing. The man, clad all in yellow now, rode upon its back. It continued to slow, gradually assumed a vertical attitude, then descended gently to the ground, landing perhaps fifteen meters from the veranda.
Red sipped his beer and set it down. He rose to his feet, smiling, and took a step forward.
"Hi, Mondy," he said. "Who's your friend?"
"Red ..." Mondamay began.
"Silence!" said John, stepping down and stretching. His topaz rings flashed in the sunlight. "Remain in position! Battle systems active!"
He stepped forward and bowed from the waist.
"John will do. And you, I take it, are Red Dorakeen?"
'That is correct. Anything I can do for you?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. You can die. Mondamay—"
"A moment. May I inquire as to your purpose in this?"
John paused in mid-gesture, nodded sharply.
"Very well. I wish to assure you that there is absolutely nothing personal involved. I am simply carrying out a commission in order to earn a large sum of money, which I require to further various personal ambitions. A man named Chadwick hired me to do this. Ah! You nod. But then you had already guessed, hadn't you? Former friends can make the worst enemies. Pity. But there you are. I won't point any morals. It's a little late for them to be of much use to you."
"So you accepted the commission, determined my destination and located a complicated piece of equipment to do the work for you? ..."
"That pretty much summarizes things. Chadwick put my feet on the right track—"
"I wonder whether your reliance on an agent is a mark of fear?"
"Fear? No more than Chadwick's hiring me is an indication of fear on his part. He is a very busy man.
He sought to employ efficiency, as do I . Do you think I fear to fight you, or any man?"
Red smiled.
"No," John said, noting the smile. "You shan't goad me into giving you an unearned chance at life. Your opinion of me means nothing when I know better."
Red puffed on his cigar.
"Interesting," he said. "Then I suppose it is merely of academic interest to you that the man who told me about you is even now approaching?"
"Man? What man?"
Red glanced at the roadway.
"A big golden-eyed guy with one hell of a suntan," he said. "I met him at a rest stop back on the Road. Driving a hot little 1920s roadster. Had on a torn shirt. Said he was going to do a lobotomy on you with an icepick."
"I don't believe you!"
Red shrugged.
"Why don't you ask him yourself? I believe that's the roadster approaching now."
John turned to regard a rushing vehicle, dust boiling behind it. Red took several steps forward.
"Halt! Right there!" John spun and raised one hand, his eyes flashing. "If this is a trick, it won't work. And if it is not, I welcome the opportunity to kill that bird with this same stone. Mondamay! Burn Red Dorakeen down to a cinder!"
Mondamay raised his right arm, extruding a tube which he pointed at Red. Lights flashed in the vicinity of his shoulder. There came a crackling sound. A tiny wisp of smoke curled upward from out of the tube.
"Shorted again," he declared.