"You probably wonder why they grease you," Amos Westler declared. Westler was a small, slim man with close-cropped graying hair and eyes that would twinkle, Johnny thought, even in darkness. He had come to Johnny's corner as a sort of unexpected second, to ready him for battle. "It's a concession on the part of Keleher, Johnny Hope. He has declared openly your strength is no match for his. The slicking will make speed and dexterity count for more." "Am I supposed to be grateful? The only reason I'm fighting him is because he won't let me seek Diane any other way. She could be in danger right now, her life might be at stake. Keleher is a fool." "And life among the Shining Ones has always been an expendable item. Diane's life, your life, even Keleher's." "What happens if I win?" Westler sighed wistfully. "You won't. This won't be the first fight for Keleher, nor the last. Actually, I hope you do win." "Why? And you haven't answered my question." "Because I've always wanted to leave the encampment. But I'm not a man for the outdoors, Johnny. I wouldn't survive a week. With your companionship, I might. Should you win the fight, and should you decide to seek Diane, I would like to join you." Johnny grasped his hand, shook it. "Done," he said. Westler smiled, wiping grease on his trousers. "To answer your question, if you win you're the chief of this encampment." Now Johnny was smiling. "A job I'm not particularly interested in. I only want to--" "I know. Look for the girl. During the excitement, something went entirely unnoticed. A rocket ship took off, near the ruins of the Village. Rockets mean Robots--and from the Citadel. Tell me, Johnny Hope, if the trail leads there, will you follow?" Johnny shrugged. "I hadn't thought of that, I didn't realize the Robots were near." "Then you're going to back down?" Disappointment was in Westler's expressive eyes. "Never. I saw New York once. I stood on the Jersey cliffs at sunset and gazed across the broad river at the Citadel with its winking lights and beacons. It is not a place of fear, but a place that men built, long ago. I will go." Again Amos Westler sighed. "I wish you win this fight, Johnny Hope. I never wished for anything as much in my life. I was a college professor before the war and I learned this: the search for knowledge is a strange thing and knows no fear. But I am no young man, and this may be my last opportunity." "Ready?" Keleher's voice roared across the clearing. "If the girls are finished caressing you with their oils...?" * * * * * The girls stepped back, looked at Johnny, tall and lithe but so small compared to Keleher, and shook their heads. "Ready," Johnny said, moving out toward Keleher warily. "His legs," Amos Westler confided. "He uses them like another pair of arms. Watch them."