"We couldn't. The Ancients left plenty of apparatus here, but not the right kind. Mostly records, and a lot of robots. Sorry, Ed, but unless you brought good weapons with you, you're stuck here with me."
Garth looked around to where his companions were standing motionless. "Yeah. Looks like it. Unless we can break through to that hangar of antigravity ships—"
"We can't. The city's full of the Zarno, day and night. And there are always guards outside."
Garth sighed. "The trouble is, unless we get out, nothing can stop the Silver Plague. Not to mention the fuel shortage. Wait a minute. You said the Zarno were superstitious—we tricked them once with a fake ceremony. Couldn't we try that again?"
"I did," Willard told them. "It didn't work. The Zarno know what human beings are like now. Only the gods would impress them—those robots who once were their masters."
Garth stopped breathing for a moment.
"There's a way," he said.
Willard looked at him. "I don't think so. When I saw you'd come back, I hoped for a minute—but it's no use. The Zarno are invulnerable to any weapons we can create here. We can't get out of the city!"
"You said the gods would impress them."