He leaned back against the pressure of her arm, saw that he had been lying on a crude bunk against the wall of an unfurnished room. He swung his legs to the floor, braced his head with both hands, gently explored the swelling bruise-knots that marked his skull. "Never again," he said grimly. "Next time, I run." Lura smiled gamely, worry shadows fleeing back into the depths of her violet eyes. She brushed back a stray lock of red-gold hair from her cheek, allowed her gaze to wander about the room. "The Master brought us here and left a metal man on guard. You have been unconscious for hours." Kimball Trent came groggily to his feet, bracing himself with one hand on the wall. Then he circled the room, stopping at the slit window, trying to see into the velvet night, going on to peer through the barred grille in the door at the expressionless inhuman face of the robot that stood at motionless guard across the hallway. Farther down the hall, on either side, he could see more doors with grilled openings. "Are we in the tower?" he asked. "Yes," Lura answered from where she sat. "The Master brought us directly here." "Did the others escape?" "I do not know. I did not see them when we were brought in, and none have been brought here since." Her self control gave slightly. "Kim, what are we going to do?" Kimball Trent grinned, forcing back the futility that beat at his thoughts. "We're going to get out of here, one way or the other," he said reassuringly. "How?" Trent shrugged, wished the ache in his head would stop bouncing about. "I don't know," he said equably. "But I've got a hunch we're in for a little quiz session with the Gharrians." "Quiz session?" "Sure. Questions and answers; they question and we answer." Lura's face was white beneath her tan, but she smiled at Trent. "I hope they hurry with whatever they've got planned; I'm beginning to feel hungry." They laughed then, laughed with the brightness and hope of youth, amused by the incongruity of worrying about a meal when their lives were probably forfeit for the events that had taken place. They laughed, and the robot moved to the grille, stared with blank telephotic eyes. "Curious little devil, isn't he?" Trent said, walked toward the bunk. He watched the grille for a moment, thoughts whirling in his mind, trying to form some plan of escape that could be based on the reactions of the robot to anything out of the ordinary that happened among the prisoners he was set to guard. * * * * * The minutes walked by on leaden feet, neither of them speaking, each intent on silent thoughts. There were no sounds, inside or out, and a chill came to the room from the night air. Then there came the heavy sound of metallic footsteps from the corridor, echoed by the shuffling of bare feet. Hands fumbled at the door, and it swung open, an Earthman entering, the doorway blocked by a single robot. "I've some questions to ask," the intruder said fearfully.