Its long multi-fingered arms were like writhing tentacles, as it singled out a man and woman, capturing them before they could move. Three men hurled themselves at its broad back, beating insanely with their fists. A robot came rushing in, battered them free, then beat them into unconsciousness with mailed feet. The Gharrian turned, stalked toward the tower, dragging the man and woman with an unconscious incredible ease. It was like a blue monster from hell dragging two victims to some hideous sacrifice. "Where?" Kimball Trent breathed. Korm shrugged. "We're not certain," he said. "One escaped prisoner said that, in the tower, tests are made of their mentality and fertility." His great hands knotted about the heavy spear shaft. "Some day I shall enter that tower, and all hell shall not stop my destroying every Master therein!" Then the passion was gone from his voice, and he was their leader again. "Matt, Nels, Parb," he ordered. "Go around to the other side and create a diversion. We shall tear down the fence from this side." The three men nodded and were gone like drifting shadows. Korm opened the small bundle Frong, the red-haired giant, handed him, disclosing several plastic ropes, gang-hooks attached to one end of each. He distributed the ropes to Valur, Frong and himself. Trent watched intently, as they fitted the spears to the hooked end of the ropes. "Is this your plan?" he asked quietly. Korm nodded shortly, testing a knot with heavy fingers. Kimball Trent lifted his rifle. "I can blow the fence to pieces with a couple of shots?" he said. "No!" Lura laid a slim hand on the rifle barrel. "We want no more noise than necessary. They discovered us early the last time we raided, and loosed the broks. We lost more than half of our group." Trent shrugged. "All right, then, what do I do?" "Sit and watch," Korm said shortly. "Cover us with your weapons." * * * * * Then he and Frong were in the open, walking steadily down the gentle slope, ropes coiled in their left hands, the spears couched in their right. And even as they began their march, a yellow rope sailed out of the trees across the enclosure, settled about the neck of a robot, tightened with a whiplike snap. The robot spun halfway about, then toppled with a metallic clatter. "Ready?" Lura whispered. Neela nodded, dark eyes worried and intent as she watched her husband and two companions pulling with all their strength upon the far rope. Four robots had whirled at the clattering, were speeding to the aid of their companion. Cable fingers caught at the black concussors at their waists, were lifting them for lethal shots. "Now!" Korm's voice came winging back.