But the slight movement was enough. She opened her eyes drowsily, then the sleepiness gave way to the hard jolt of remembrance and realization. She looked at the gray window and asked, "How much longer?" "Within a few minutes." "I wish you hadn't let me sleep." "You were tired." "I didn't want to sleep--I didn't think I would." Then she changed the subject, as though to keep it from going into the sentimental. "I see the robot never did come back for the tray. We'll be leaving a messy room, won't we? I wonder if they'll disinfect it to make sure it's clean when we're gone? You know"--she smiled a little--"fleas and things." She lifted her face to kiss him on the cheek, then she rose and moved to the window. "It's cloudy," she said. "There's a mist of rain falling and it's cloudy outside. I guess it's already later than we thought." He went over to stand beside her and saw that the morning was alight with near-sunrise behind the gray clouds. "It's out there waiting for us--_The Cat_," she said. He saw it, standing silver-white in the gray morning, gleaming in the rain and with its slim, dynamic lines making it look as though it might at any moment hurl itself roaring into the sky. "It's a beautiful ship," she said. "I wonder what they will do with it when they--" A sound came from the far end of the corridor; a snapped command in Tharnarian. The command was followed at once by the sound of footsteps approaching their cell; the heavy tread of robots and the lighter, softer steps of the guards. Virginia turned away from the window and they faced the cell door as they waited. "This is it," she said. "Are you afraid, Ginny?" "Afraid?" She laughed up at him, a laugh that came only a little too quickly. "It's like a play, set a long time ago on Earth. Coffee and pistols at dawn. Only I don't think they're bringing us any coffee and if we get a pistol, it will have to be one of theirs." "It isn't over with till the end--and maybe we can change the ending of this play for them." "I'll be watching you, Bob, so I can help you the moment you make the try." The Tharnarian guards stopped outside the door, their blasters in their hands. One of them unlocked the door and two robots entered, guards locking the big door behind the robots the moment they were inside. The robots carried no blasters, nothing but three lengths of chain. The Tharnarian leader outside the door rasped a command: "You will both turn to face the window, with your hands behind you." Bob did not obey at once, but appraised the situation. The robots were massive things--more than six hundred pounds in weight, their metal bodies invulnerable to any attack he could make with his bare hands. But there was one chance in ten thousand: if he could catch the first robot by surprise and send it toppling into the cell door, its weight might be enough to break the lock of the door.