"Excuses, excuses," she complained. "Always something more important than a chase it is."
"Take us to the driver of that thing," Mason prompted. "We—"
But he tensed and stared up in alarm toward the field. Cassidy followed his gaze to the skimmer vehicle that had earlier reduced a pile of trash to nothing. The craft was just now floating up to their ship.
Its two beams of sizzling red light swept over the hull from stem to stern, again and again—until there was nothing left of their ship but incandescent molten metal.
Mason displayed a sickened, then resigned expression, thrust his hands in his pockets and shuffled off toward the field.
"Getting in on one of those chases I think I'll be," he said.
But he paused outside the fence, turned to say something, then lurched back. "Cassidy! Watch out! There's one of those things!"
The spider-octopus came into view from around the rear of the manor and crawled leisurely toward the guest house. Its body, covered with a multitude of eyes and an unkempt mat of fuzz, was like a coal-black knob perched atop hairy stilts.
Evidently, Cassidy guessed as he dived behind a hedge and pulled the girl with him, the thing had gotten away from its master, for it was trailing its leash in the dust.
"It's hurt you he won't," Riva assured, quite puzzled over his apprehension. "He belongs to—"