“Doc,” said Buster.
“Yes, what is it?”
“You won’t hurt me, doc. I got to bring you in this time. Elmer isn’t fooling.”
“Neither am I,” said Lathrop.
The thudding began again, came closer and closer, the frosty steps ringing to the heavy tread of the climbing robot. Buster’s bulk heaved itself up the last flight, moved out onto the landing. Facing the stairs, Buster stood waiting, his crystal lenses staring at the man.
“So you came to get me,” Lathrop said. He flipped the gun’s muzzle at Buster and chuckled.
“You have to come, doc,” said Buster. “You just have to come.”
“I’ll come,” said Lathrop, “but first you’re going to talk. You’re going to tell me a lot of things I need to know.”
A flood of protest washed out from Buster’s electronic brain. “I can’t,” he wailed. “I can’t!”
Lathrop leveled the gun, his gloved finger covering the button. His eyes grew steellike in the light from the stars.