Seated at the controls of the tiny roller, Lynn Graham was thinking furiously as she drove. Obviously there was no chance of escaping so long as that flabby-fleshed parody of manhood crouched behind her with a Haemholtz leveled on the small of her back. Yet somehow she must get away ... get to the Fort and bring the Patrol....
Guile, that was her only chance. Take advantage of the slow-thinking Titanian's inferior mentality. She turned and smiled back over her shoulder.
"Have you ever been to the Patrol Base before?" she asked pleasantly.
Grushl answered mechanically, "Yes. Many times—" Then the implication of her words penetrated his brute brain. "Before? But we are not going to the Patrol Base."
"Maybe," retorted Lynn airily, "you're not, but I am. Just as fast as this roller will carry me."
Grushl's heavy brows gathered in perplexity.
"But, no! You are to drive to the office building, there await the Master."
Lynn laughed. "What nonsense! So long as I am the driver of this roller, I will take it where I wish."
"Then," said Grushl thoughtfully, "I will be forced to shoot you. You must not escape."