Clunky gears revolved in its joints and jets of steam vented from the exhaust pipes on its back. “You need a license to be charitable in this city?” balked Corwin as he retreated a cautious step. Ransom was scratching his chin. “Ah yes, it seems I forgot about that.” Glancing above the shop window where they had found the girl, Corwin noticed a panning security camera, its lens now pointed their way and smoldering with an angry red light. “Violators will be prosecuted!” droned the robot. They heard the hiss-click of another round being loaded into its net gun. “Such a nuisance,” grumbled Ransom. “You’re interrupting my valuable attorney-client session time.” In his right hand he juggled the infamous green apple, casually tossing it and letting the fruit drop back into his palm. The enforcer leveled its gun towards them. With a swift twist, Ransom’s arm became a blur and he pitched the apple straight at the robot’s glowing face. It splattered on the screen, the glass bursting as a thunderous ball of fire blasted the torso of the machine into a thousand charred pieces.
