Wordless, disdainful, the girl tossed her head. The golden hair rippled. Rising, she took a gown from a chair and pulled it about her slim, perfect figure.
"That's better." Jarl turned to Ungo. "We'll go down through the workshop. There's less chance there to trap us."
In hair-triggered silence, they moved back through the hallway, the girl boxed among them. A different ramp yawned. The door at its foot let them into the workshop, the place of the robots.
Wassreck's robots.
A name to conjure with, Ktar Wassreck. Master of robots, master of raiders. The brain of a genius in a pain-shriveled body. A mind that had fathomed the key to the star-stones; courage to strike even through Oyo's flame-death, staking his soul for Jarl Corvett at Horla.
And here were his robots—towering metal monsters, set shoulder to shoulder. He dreamed of them, lived for them. More even than dark Sais, they were his children.
Children of a nightmare, Jarl thought as he led the way past them. Bleakly, he wondered why Wassreck had made them—what dark, twisted drive had spurred their creation.
They came to a door. Jarl faced his raiders. "The hallway's outside. The third ramp to the left leads down to the blowers."
He turned to the girl, the commissioner's slim daughter. "Stay with me, Ylana. And forget about running or screaming."
She moved closer, not speaking. The grey eyes were unfathomable.