“We’ve got to stop them!” Sharp yelled, racing up the stairs.

While Rip had stopped the first line from going up, at least temporarily, the other columns moved forward unabated. All of them tromped up the steps at an inexorable pace.

“That’s easier said than done, Colonel,” Twig grumbled, taking off after his team leader. They both ran up the steps, gaining ground above the robots.

Chance turned to Rip and said, “How many grappling guns do you have?”

“Not enough.”

Chance nodded, as if expecting this answer, and turned to follow Twig and Sharp.

“Let’s do what we can down here,” Bixby said. “At least they’ll be bottled up on Level One when they get there. The exit corridors to the surface are not very wide, at least in comparison to down here. It’ll be easier to make a final stand there. If we can reduced their numbers now, that would be ideal.”

“Yeah, but, we’ll probably have other worries up there, like sewer troopers trying to help them get out. Plus, we’ll be facing the same narrow corridors.”

Bixby nodded.

“Quite right, Sergeant. Let’s disable as many as we can down here.”

Rip jogged up the stairs with Bixby following.

Chance, Twig and Sharp were spread out on the steps in front of the approaching lines of robots. They lit sticks of dynamite simultaneously and tossed them down at the lumbering units.

Twig’s explosion hit the lead robot on his column just right, knocking it off balance midstep. It tumbled back down the stairs, wiping out those below it in a great series of crashes.

Sharp’s and Chance’s explosions failed to have the same effect. They blew up near the lead bots, but failed to knock any over.

Twig moved to his left, and tossed another stick down on a new column while the other two continued tossing sticks at theirs. Twig’s second explosion worked, and the lead robot fell backward, knocking over those behind it.

“About one in three explosions are effective, looks like.”

“I say, Sergeant. Hand me some dynamite and I’ll join in the fun.”

Rip pulled out a bundle of sticks and gave them to the colonel, along with a fistful of matches. Bixby jogged up the stairs two by two to get ahead of the line and picked a column. He lit the first stick and tossed it at the lead robot.

Rip turned to watch what was happening at the base of the giant staircase. Down below, some of the robots began bypassing the pileups down there. Also, those not damaged too badly in the fall slowly sorted themselves out and resumed climbing in formation.

“This is never going to work. We need to cut the puppet strings. Or something.”

He left the others to continue blowing up the columns and jogged back down to the floor. He headed toward the girls in the back of the cavernous room.

As he ran past the bots, boosted by [Vampiric Speed], he noted two things. First, these robots were all unarmed. Would they be picking up weapons somewhere else, he wondered, or were they expected to destroy things by hand up on the surface?

Certainly an enhanced robot could do a lot of damage, even without a big 9-50 rifle, he thought. He could easily envision one punching out walls, even knocking over buildings. And if hundreds of them were out causing damage all at once, things could get messy.

The other thing he noticed, as the others said, the robots were not expressing hostile intent like every other one he had met on this world. Was that a programming change? Were they in evacuate mode or something? Maybe he could figure things out at the control booth.

He set aside these thoughts for later and kept speeding toward the end of the lines. Here toward the back of the room, a trail of destroyed bots stood motionless, wisps of smoke escaping from the heads of many.

He found Liza and Hilda sitting on the floor, panting. They looked exhausted, Rip thought. Around them, dozens of robots stood motionless.

Rip stopped in front of them.

“You’ve over-extended yourselves, haven’t you? Too much misting.”

Liza smiled, breathing hard.

“We were taking turns,” she said. “But yes, we have gone too far. Is the dynamite working? We hear the explosions.”

Rip shook his head.

“The only thing it’s doing is knocking them off balance on the stairs. When that happens, they take out some below. But we’re not stopping the horde.”

Liza extended her hand, and Rip pulled her off the ground. She felt light, he thought.

He said, “Look, don’t overdo it. I’m going to go after Dar Caul. If I can get into his control booth, maybe I can turn all these things off.”

“We will help you kill that man,” Hilda said, scrambling to her feet.

“There’s probably too much silver around him. I’ll take care of Caul. You keep knocking out the bots here. Just, don’t hurt yourself.”

They both nodded, and turned toward the nearest robot without a silver disc. Last in line, its column advanced another step as they watched.

Liza glanced back at Rip and said, “Be careful, Sergeant!”

“Yes, you should let us turn you and make you immortal,” Hilda said.

Both girls smiled at him, and he suddenly had a thought. He wondered how old they were.

“Thanks, but somebody needs to get past all the silver Caul is surrounded by. That’s some kryptonite I don’t need right now.”

Their brows furrowed in confusion.

He smiled and sped toward the very back of the room without taking time to explain the reference. He could make out a shiny square area near the wall, and a person behind it. His eyes narrowed and he poured on the speed.

The control booth sat up against the back of the room with chest-high walls surrounding three sides, all plated in silver from what Rip could tell.

The black-clad man behind the counter looked up at his approach. Even with [Vampiric Speed], he could see Rip coming from a distance. His hands flew across the controls as he made some last minute adjustments. He took out a hammer and began striking something.

Then Rip was there.

He jumped over the wall and tackled Caul, knocking them both to the floor of the control booth. He slugged the man repeatedly in the jaw, adding [Vampiric Speed] to his fists, hoping to inflict some damage on the enhanced Dar.

He managed to crack open the man’s lower lip.

Caul smiled at him, with bloodstained teeth.

“You are too late, Sergeant. Their course is irreversible.”

Rip stopped, his arm pulled back for another hit. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder at the control panel in the front of the booth.

Caul had destroyed it. The hammer lay on the floor nearby.

He also noticed three robots had left the rear of their lines and were fast approaching the control booth, their heavy metal footsteps clanking across the floor.

“Halt! Intruder!”