Drummond kicked, but 76 only held his legs more firmly. Furious, Drummond reached for his gun.
"That's using your head," Angus said sarcastically. "Agitate them. Then we'll never get out of here."
Drummond let the weapon slip back into its holster. "What did we get into—a nest of fanatics? Who's Jackson?"
Angus helplessly shrugged his bony shoulders.
The procession filtered through a narrow woods and broke out on another plain, headed for the nearby cliff.
Angus leaned forward. "Put me down, 204."
"Thou art Jackson," said the robot solemnly. "And Thou art testing me to see whether I would so easily abandon my Supervisor."
"Not testing," Angus said. "Just asking. Come on, how about it?"
"Praise Jackson!" 204 cried.
"Jackson! Jackson!" intoned the throng.