Randall went over to the external view screen and spent several minutes scanning the sky, bright now with the dawning light of Aldebaran.
"You won't find the puppets up there," Stewart said, finally intolerant of whatever phobia Randall might be pampering.
The director turned guiltily away from the screen. "Anybody have any ideas on what we can do about those robots?"
Stewart went over to a second screen. "After having slept on the problem, I think I might be able to contribute something."
He focused on the telepuppets, attending to their various exploratory chores out on the plain. "Carol gave me an idea with something she said yesterday. We may be able to solve our telepuppet worries within five minutes' time."
"Bring the OC back under control?" The director arched his thick brows. "How?"
"We might succeed in immobilizing it. That'll deprive the other puppets of their source of power. Within a few hours their batteries will drain and we'll be able to go to work on the OC without any possible interference."
He indicated his hostile-atmosphere sheath slumped in a corner of the compartment. "Won't need that. But I will have to have a deep-space suit—heavily shielded against solar storm exposure. You have one aboard, McAllister?"
The pilot nodded. "Standard equipment. But you'll think it weighs a ton. It's designed for null-G use."
Carol's puzzlement drained away. "The suit's metal! Which means, as far as the puppets are concerned, that it's totemic!"