A moment after the robot had departed on the errand, heavy steps sounded at the rear of the hall. Marcia-Joan's robot had dealt with the mechanism of the back door.
Robert eyed the metal mask as the robot walked up to him. He found the color contrast less pleasant than ever.
"I am not using the door," he said hastily. "I am merely holding it open."
"Do you intend to use it?"
"I haven't decided."
"I shall carry you out back," the robot decided for him.
"No, you don't!" exclaimed Robert, leaping backward.
The door immediately began to swing shut as he passed through.
Cursing, he lunged forward. The robot reached for him.
This time, Robert missed his grip. Before he could duck away, his wrist was trapped in a metal grasp.