"A tank," Retief said. "A museum piece, by the look of it."
"I'll say," Chip said. "That's a Bolo Resartus, Model M. Built mebbe two hunderd years ago in Concordiat times. Packs a wallop, too, I'll tell ye."
The tank wheeled, brought a gun muzzle to bear in the base of the tower.
"Send 'em out," the speaker growled. "Or I blast 'em out."
"One round in here, and I've had a wasted trip," Retief said. "I'd better go out."
"Wait a minute, Mister," Chip said. "I got the glimmerin's of a idear."
"I'll stall them," Tove said. He keyed the mike.
"ACI 228, what's your authority for this demand?"
"I know that machine," Chip said. "My hobby, old-time fightin' machines. Built a model of a Resartus once, inch to the foot. A beauty. Now, lessee...."