By Poul Anderson
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Extra info for A Circus of Hells
Flandry didn't think they could afford hysteria. He hauled her to her feet. " When words didn't work, he took her by her ankles, held her upside down, and made his threat good. While she sobbed and gulped and wrestled her way back to control, he held her in a more gentle embrace and studied the robots across her shoulder. Most were in poor shape, holes torn in their skins, limbs missing. No wonder he'd heard them rattle and clank in the fog. Some looked unhurt aside from minor scratches and dents.
The ship had switched from hyperdrive to sublight under gravs—so few KPS as to support the idea of many large meteoroids. ) Talwin's crescent, blinding white, blurred along the edges, indicated that, like Venus, it was entirely clouded over. But it was not altogether featureless; spots and bands of red could be seen. "Looks none too promising," he remarked. " "The planet is," Tryntaf said. "It is late summer—everywhere; there is hardly any axial tilt—and temperatures remain fierce. Dress lightly before you disembark, Lieutenant!
She half raised herself, fell across his lap, and wept. "It's no use, Nicky. We can't make it. We'll be murdered. And if we do get by, what'll we find? A thing that builds killing engines. Let's go back. We can go back the way we came. Can't we? And have a little, little while alive together—" He consoled her until the chill and hardness of the rock on which he sat got through to him. Then, stiffly, he rose and assisted her to her feet. His voice sounded remote and strange in his ears. "Ordinarily I'd agree with you, dear.
A Circus of Hells by Poul Anderson