Three robots zipped down from the airship on cables. The ground shook as their heavy feet slammed against the cobblestones. Then they stood side by side, forming a wall, with their eyes locked on Roz. They were RECO 4, RECO 5, and RECO 6.
“Hello, ROZZUM unit 7134, we are the RECOs. Please come with us.”
The robotic voice belonged to RECO 4. He and his partners waited for their target to come forward. But Roz didn’t move. She knew how dangerous the RECOs could be. And so did her son. From somewhere in the sky Brightbill’s frightened voice cried out.
“Run, Mama, run!”
So Roz ran. She dashed up the pathway and leaped into the woods. Without crunching a weed, without rustling a leaf, the robot vanished into the thick foliage. The RECOs weren’t concerned. They had other ways of tracking her, or so they thought. Their blocky heads swiveled from side to side, scanning the woods for Roz’s electronic signal. They scanned and scanned and scanned, but they found no trace of their target.