But the warning was too late. Already the tide had washed away from the ship and was surging toward the gorge.
There was a noise behind them and Angus spun around. Ten feet away stood a robot with the designation RA-204 on his breast-plate.
"Welcome, O Jackson," the clunker said reverently.
Then he hinged forward on his hip joints until his head almost touched the ground. The gesture was a clockwork salaam.
McIntosh's thin legs dangled in front of 204's breast-plate and his ankles were secure in the grip of metal fingers as he rode the robot's shoulders.
RA-76 strode alongside, carrying a squirming and swearing Drummond. Around them, the shining horde marched along noisily.
"He has come!" cried one.
"Jackson has come!" chanted the others of the shining horde.
"He will show us the way!" shouted RA-204.