Katha walked with him. "You know?" she asked softly.
"I know."
"There is a kitchenette off to one side," she said. "I am going to prepare food for myself. Then tell me your plans!"
When she left him, Tyr turned back to the metal giants, touching levers and rods. He lost himself in their intricacies as a boy does with new and complicated toys.
He did not hear Katha cry out from the next chamber. He did not hear the footsteps. He did not see the girl who came with Gaarn and Texel to stand in the doorway, a solar gun in her white hand.
A ball of flame exploded amid the coils and antennae of a big machine. Another fell onto a huge dynamo. Still another whistled shrilly as it clove a path through cones and hoops.
Tyr whirled, but it was too late. Fay was firing rapidly, as fast as she could depress the stud. The yellow blasts ate and drank their way through the machines until every one lay smashed and wrecked.
Tyr laughed bitterly.
"Destroy your every chance," he said. "Your freedom lies on the floor, amid those twisted metal things."