"They won't come any closer," roared back Bigman. "If they make a move toward me I shall burn your heart out of your chest, and they know I'll do it. At least they can't take the chance I won't." He stood there easily, mockingly.
Devoure flushed and lifted his blaster.
Bigman said, "Now don't hurt yourself with that blaster. You're holding it a little close to your body."
His right elbow was resting in the palm of his left hand. His right fist squeezed gently as he spoke, and from the muzzle of the needle gun just protruding from between second and third fingers, a jet of deuterium pulsed out under the guidance of a momentarily established magnetic field. It took skill of the highest order to adjust the squeeze and thumb position correctly, but Bigman had that. No man in the system had more.
The muzzle tip of Devoure's blaster was a tiny white spark, and Devoure yelled his surprise and dropped it.
Bigman said, "I don't know who you other two cobbers are, but if either of you makes a move that looks like a blaster is at the end of it, you'll never finish that move."
All froze. Yonge finally said carefully, "How do you come to be armed?"
"A robot," said Bigman, "is no smarter than the cobber who runs him. The robots who searched me on the ship and out here were instructed by someone who didn't know a Martian uses his boots for more than something to put his legs into."
"And how did you break away from the robots?"
Bigman said coolly, "I had to destroy one."
"You destroyed a robot?" A kind of electric horror stunned the three Sirians.
Bigman felt increasing tension. He did not concern himself with the robots standing about, but at any moment another human Sirian might appear and shoot him in the back from a safe distance.
The spot between his shoulders prickled as he waited for the shot. Well, it would be a flash. He would never feel it. And after that they would have lost their hold on Lucky and, dead or not, Bigman would be the winner.
Only, he wanted a chance at Devoure first, at that soft Sirian cobber who had sat across the table from him and said things no man in the universe could say and be left standing.
Bigman said, "I could shoot you all. Shall we make an arrangement?"
"You won't shoot us," said Serviceman Yonge quietly. "A shooting would simply mean that an Earthman has opened hostilities on a Sirian planet. It could mean war."
"Besides," roared Devoure, "if you make any attack it will release the robots. They'll defend three humans rather than one. Throw down that needle gun and put yourself back in custody."
"All right, send the robots away, and I'll surrender to you."
"The robots will handle you," said Devoure. He made as though to turn nonchalantly toward the other Sirians. "My skin crawls at having to talk to this deformed humanoid."
Bigman's needle gun flashed at once, the small fire ball exploding a foot before Devoure's eyes. "Say something like that again and I'll blind you for good. If the robots make a move, all three of you get it before they reach us. It may mean war, but you three won't be here to see if it does. Order the robots away and I'll surrender to Devoure, if he can take me. I'll toss my needle gun to one of you other two and surrender."
Zayon said stiffly, "That sounds reasonable, Devoure."
Devoure was still rubbing his eyes. "Take his gun then. Go over there and take it."
"Wait," said Bigman, "don't move yet. I want your word of honor that I won't be shot down or given to the robots. Devoure has to take me."
"My word of honor to you?" exploded Devoure.
"To me. But not from you. The word of one of the other two. They're wearing the uniform of the Sirian Service and I'll take their word. If I give them the needle gun, will they stand by and let you, Devoure, come and take me with your bare hands?"
"You have my word," said Zayon.
"And mine," added Yonge.
Devoure said, "What is this? I have no intention of touching the creature."
"Afraid?" asked Bigman softly. "Am I too big for you, Devoure? You've called me names. Do you want to put your muscles where your cowardly mouth is? Here's my needle gun, Servicemen."
He tossed the gun suddenly in Zayon's direction. Zayon reached out a hand and caught it neatly.
Bigman waited. Now for death?
But Zayon put the needle gun in his pocket.
Devoure called out, "Robots!" and Zayon called out with equal vigor, "Leave us, robots!"
Zayon said to Devoure, "He has our word. You'll have to take him into custody yourself."
"Or do I come after you?" Bigman called out in shrill mockery.
Devoure snarled wordlessly and strode hastily toward Bigman. The small Martian waited, slightly crouched, then took a small side step to avoid the arm reaching out for
His fist struck the other's face with the dull impact of a mallet hitting a head of cabbage, and Devoure staggered back, stumbling into a sitting position. He stared at Bigman in stunned amazement. His right cheek had reddened and a trickle of blood made its slow way out of the corner of his mouth. He put his finger to it, drew it away, and looked at the blood with an almost comical disbelief.
Yonge said, "The Earthman is taller than he looks."
Bigman said, "I'm not an Earthman, I'm a Martian…… Stand up, Devoure. Or are you too soft?
Can't you do anything without robots to help you? Do they wipe your mouth when you're done eating?"
Devoure yelled hoarsely and jumped to his feet but did not rush Bigman. He circled him instead, breathing hard, watching out of inflamed eyes.
Bigman wheeled also, watching that panting body, soft with good living and robot help, watching the unskillful arms and clumsy legs. The Sirian, Bigman was sure, had never fought fist to fist before.
Bigman stepped in again, caught the other's arm with a sure and sudden motion, and twisted. With a howl Devoure flipped and fell prone.
Bigman stepped back. "What's the matter? I'm not a he; I'm just an it. What's your trouble?"
Devoure looked up at the two Servicemen with something deadly hi his eyes. He rose to his knees and groaned as he put a hand to his side where it had hit the ground.
The two Sirians did not make any move to help him. They watched stolidly as Bigman cut him down again and then again.
Finally Zayon stepped forward. "Martian, you will hurt him seriously if you continue. Our agreement was to let Devoure take you with his bare hands, and actually I think you have what you really wanted when you made the agreement. That's all. Surrender quietly to me now or I'll have to use the needle gun."
But Devoure, panting noisily, gasped, "Get away. Get away, Zayon, It's too late for that. Step back, I say."
He called out in a high-pitched yell, "Robots! Come here!"
Zayon said, "He'll surrender to me."
"No surrender," said Devoure, Ms swollen face twitching with physical pain and intense fury. "No sur render. Too late for that… You, robot, the closest
one-I don't care what your serial number is-you. Take it-take that thing." His voice rose to a scream as he pointed to Bigman. "Destroy it! Break it! Break each piece of it!"
Yonge shouted, "Devoure! Are you mad? A robot can't do a thing like that."
The robot remained standing. It did not move.
Devoure said, "You can't harm a human being, robot. I'm not asking you to do so. But this is not a human being."
The robot turned to look at Bigman.
Bigman shouted, "It won't believe that. You may consider me non-human, but a robot knows better."
Devoure said, "Look at it, robot. It talks and has a human shape, but so do you and you're no human. I can prove it's not human. Did you ever see a full-grown human so small? That proves it's not human. It's an animal and it is-it is harming me. You must destroy it."
"Run to Mamma Robot," yelled Bigman mockingly.
But the robot took the first step toward Bigman.