The lead robot now had a clear path down the garden paths to the far exit. It moved that way, metal feet clanking on the gray floor, leaving behind muddy footsteps from what was left of Kipouros.

The others fell into line behind it. Rip carefully shot off the medallion on the third robot as it passed him by, stopping to reload and ducking behind a bush while bullets from the sewer troopers whizzed over his head.

The third bot stopped and stared at its silver circle spinning on the floor like a platter.

It turned a metal head slowly toward Rip, eyes whirring as it refocused on him.

Rip slammed home a fresh magazine in the Walther. He stood up from behind the bush, ready to fire again, but he stopped when he saw the machine staring at him.

“Oh, now you’ve done it!” Blair yelled at him from a neighboring garden plot, smiling.

She had taken up a sniper position in the branches of a shade tree, picking off sewer troopers from her perch. Only a handful of them were left. She had paused in her sniping and watched this third bot with interest.

The first two kept tromping for the exit at the far end of the atrium. But the third one altered course, heading straight toward Rip. He raised his eyebrows and put away the Walther. He retrieved both Webleys from their shoulder holsters, one in each hand.

He stood still as the thing charged, aiming for both eyes with either gun and ignoring the occasional bullets flying around him.

The revolvers cracked simultaneously, and both robot eyes blew out.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!”

The bot homed in on his voice and kept running, arms spread wide to try and scoop him up as it bent low.

Rip jumped, powerful legs bringing him in an arc over the bot’s head. He landed and turned, but did not shoot at the machine’s back, recalling that he could only make a dent in the enhanced metal.

One of the sewer troopers took advantage of his open position and shot again. He felt a bullet plunk into the back of his calf muscle.

Turning to look, he saw the man dodge behind a large tree like Blair’s. Without bothering to switch guns, Rip aimed at the tree and shot.

His enhanced bullet slapped through the thick trunk, striking the man in the chest. The trooper fell over, dead.

Before Rip could celebrate, the blind robot twirled around and swung its fist wide, landing a haymaker in Rip’s face.

He fell over, both pistols knocked out of his grasp.

“Ripley!”

Liza blurred forward from the rear of the line and misted, swarming up to the bot’s head. It ignored the fog, which it couldn’t see anyway, and concentrated on the spot it heard Rip fall.

It lifted up both arms to strike again . . . and Liza blew out all its tubes.

Rip struggled to stand up, hearing the sound of servos winding down. He felt dazed.

Liza blurred again and stood next to him, touching his cheek.

“Drink a healing potion, Ripley.”

He nodded and pulled one out of his wallet, knocking it back.

Another bullet hit him. Then one shattered the potion’s vial, spilling red liquid all over him.

A third slapped into Liza’s chest. She turned, fangs bared, and caught the eye of the gunman several yards away.

She blurred and reappeared in front of him. With one swipe of her hand, she ripped his throat out underneath the gasmask.

At that moment, a final trooper popped up from the tunnel, a rather large man. He carried a heavy cylinder on his back and held a long blunderbuss connected to the canister with a metal hose.

“Heads up!” Rip shouted. “What is that, a flamethrower?”

He picked up his revolvers and squeezed off a round from one of the Webleys, but he still felt a little woozy and the shot flew wide.

The big trooper activated the blunderbuss, and thick white gas spewed out in a billowing cloud.

“Try not to breathe it!” Sharp called out.

Already, Twig and Chance were coughing. The fumes seem to spread unnaturally quick.

Rip pulled out the gasmasks he had bought and shoved half a dozen into Liza’s hands.

“Take these around to everyone. Hurry.”

She nodded and blurred away.

“Put on the masks!” he called out after her.

Liza quickly delivered one to each member of the team, save for her sister. She had one left over and stopped, sniffing the air. Shrugging, she sped back over to Rip.

“I do not think we need these, Ripley. These fumes don’t seem to bother me.”

He mumbled something, inaudible.

“What was that? I can’t understand you.”

He mumbled louder.

“I am sorry, Ripley. I can’t make out what you are saying.”

He gave her an annoyed swipe of his hand and aimed again at the big man standing on the ladder, halfway out of the hatch spewing gas.

Squinting through the eyeglass, he fired off another round. This one popped through the trooper’s gasmask in the middle of his forehead, knocking him backward. He lost his footing on the metal rungs below, and slid back inside. The gas sprayer went down the hatch with him.

The five remaining robots marched ahead, cutting through the fog. They ignored the people and hurried after the two who had gone ahead.

Rip tried to say something to Liza again, but his words were muffled by the gasmask.

“What? I don’t understand.”

Exasperated, he pulled the mask off.

“Stop them!”

“Oh! Yes, of course!”

She blurred away. Her sister followed.

He looked back at the others. Blair shot three troopers in a row from her branch up in the tree, taking out the last of them. Chance and Twig stopped to gather up their ladders and the stray silver circle still lying on the floor.

Bixby stood beside Sharp, hands on his hips. All wore Rip’s gasmasks.

Rip coughed as the gas dissipated. It seemed to be clearing out as quickly as it gathered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the mud from Kipouros starting to draw together again. Gobs of the stuff inched across the floor, merging into a larger mass that promised to reconstitute the golem soon.

Bixby said something, his voice muffled by the mask.

“You’re going to have to take it off, Colonel!”

Bixby pulled it off and stowed the mask away in his satchel, wrinkling his nose at the lingering odor.

“Let’s chase after them, shall we? Maybe we can lend the girls a hand.”