"What are you going to do?" she asked breathlessly.
He said, "Remind them that every three Terran months a supply ship puts in here. And if we're harmed they'll be destroyed."
"But what about the space ship? Couldn't they escape to another asteroid? They'd never be located in the belt."
"It shouldn't occur to them," returned Hen thoughtfully. "Not unless the idea reached them from us."
He went to the radio contact, switched it on. "R-7," he called. "R-7."
"Here, father," the voice of the robot issued from the audio.
He said, "R-7, I'm giving you one last chance. Return to work at once or all of you will be terminated."
"How?"
He explained tersely about the supply ship, and what would occur if so much as a hair of their heads was injured. Silence greeted the ultimatum. For a moment Hen wondered if R-7 had switched himself off. Then the robot said, "We are going to load the ship and hide out in the belt. They'll never be able to locate us."