"Change of address--Pit Seven," the metallic voice of the cab repeated
through the speaker overhead.
Gavin felt like a blind man playing chess. He narrowed his pale blue
eyes. "Where are we going?"
"The _Nova_." Her voice was unfriendly.
"But the _Nova's_ at Pit Nine."
"Pit Nine's being watched. We're going to use the underground."
Gavin shifted slightly, half-turned towards the girl. "Point that dart
gun some other direction," he complained. "My blood's running cold."
She didn't move it.
Gavin's long arm snapped out with the precision of a cat's paw, slapped
the gun out of her hands. The girl gasped, "Oh!" snatched for the
weapon, but Gavin's hand was already covering it.