"I'm here. What do you want?"
"You will have to leave at once. We will tolerate a delay of no more
than five minutes, plus or minus one."
"How come? Why can't I stay?"
"The City of Wiener faces armed attack if you remain here. Therefore,
you must leave."
_Very logical_, Kesley thought coldly. "Armed attack from whom?"
A section of the wall near him rolled away, revealing a mammoth screen
that showed the outside desert with startling clarity. Kesley saw
figures huddled along the horizon, marching forward. An army. Duke
Winslow's army.
"They're from the Duke, aren't they?"
"Yes. They've come to get you."
"And you're just going to turn me over to them?" Kesley asked
horror-stricken.
"We simply are requesting that you leave. We do not wish to risk an
armed attack upon ourself."
"You can defend yourself, can't you?"
"We are not afraid of the Duke. We simply wish to avoid any conflict
as unnecessary expenditure of material and effort. You now have three
minutes, plus or minus one, in which to leave freely."
Sweat began to pour down Kesley's back. He glanced at the screen, saw
Winslow's advancing forces. They had somehow tracked him to Wiener.
But the City _couldn't_ throw him out now! It just wasn't fair!
Grimly, he started to run.
He charged forward toward the long shadowed corridor and heard his
footsteps ringing loudly as he ran. The corridor was a helix that wound
deeper and deeper into the Earth; Kesley ran, feeling the pure cold air
whipping past.
Gleaming blue mechanical men turned to look at him as he went by.
"Two minutes, plus or minus one," the machine warned. Its voice seemed
to be everywhere. Kesley saw the familiar grids studding the wall at
regular intervals.
He had to hide. He had to avoid the City's commands, avoid Winslow,
stay here where he was safe. He found a dark alcove and stepped in.
There was a door; he opened it, stepped through, and found himself in
the midst of an intricate network of machinery, row on row of relay and
stud.
"One minute, plus or minus one," the ubiquitous voice said. Kesley
scowled. There wouldn't be any escape, it seemed. He kept running.
"We have requested that you leave. Your time is now exhausted, and we
must remove you."
Kesley whirled desperately and saw four of the metal men coming toward
him. They seized him gently, grasping him in the thick paws of their
upper arms. His fists thudded against the solid metal of their chest,
bruising his knuckles but failing to stop their advance.
They lifted him and began to move, sliding forward at an incredible
pace up the long corridor and toward the beckoning iris of an opening
door.