Jarl rocked--incredulous, unbelieving. His club-arm sagged down to his side. With every fleeting second, the metal monster towered still larger, closer. Its massive legs swung out in wallowing, league-long strides, closing the gap between them. Ylana cried out again. She darted to Jarl; clung close against him, shaking like a slim reed in a wind. He tore free from his shell of shock and frozen-fascination. Sweeping the girl up, he raced for the nearest outcropping of jagged rock. The giant from beyond the void stalked nearer. The clanking of the great joints rolled down on them like distant thunder. Ylana sobbed, "My father--he must have found that I was gone--" Jarl did not answer. Drawing her down behind the rocks, he waited, as for the Juggernaut of fate itself. The monster thundered closer, great feet grinding stones to powder with every stride. The rising sun's rays transformed the mighty, gleaming torso to a living statue carved in orange-gold fire. Ylana shook with a new wave of paroxysmal panic. It took every ounce of Jarl's control to hold himself from leaping up and running--tearing his heart apart in one last frantic, desperate flight. But what good would it do to run, when this monstrous menace could overtake and pass him in a single stride? Heart in his throat, he pulled Ylana close against him and waited in rigid, aching tension for his doom. Another clanking step ... another; and the robot towered above them, mountain-high. * * * * * Jarl's straining muscles cramped with pain. In awful fascination, he felt the robot's shadow fall across them; watched as a gigantic foot came down. The very ground shook. Dust spurted in a smothering cloud. It was as if death, personified, looked down upon them. And then, incredibly, the ponderous leg swung out again--swept over them, past them, and crashed to earth again beyond. Another step. The shadow lifted. Jarl raised his head; stared, still not believing. But the robot was still moving on--on, through the bleak crags and the wastelands. On, towards the place where the prows of the space-ships stood out against the sky. Straining his eyes, Jarl could see tiny figures running, the headlong rush of panic in their stride. But the robot was striding faster. A roar of rockets echoed dimly. As one, the _Knife_ and Bor Legat's _Lightning_ blasted up into the sky. But already the robot was leaping, pivoting, with hideous, awkward grace that spoke of awful strength beyond man's feeble understanding. Great, gleaming metal hands shot out and seized the _Lightning_ in mid-air. A lance of light blazed from the force-spot in the forehead and blasted the _Knife_ to shattered fragments before it cleared the rocks. And even as the light-beam struck, the mighty arms were levering. The _Lightning's_ hull-beam cracked and splintered. The body parted in a spray of shattered shards and clawing, falling crewmen.