37 - 7 - Rips up Seats

<No! Not yet!>

The seats for the occasional live audience were bolted to the floor, ten rows of five chairs each, one after the other up a slight incline.

RIIPP!

One less seat!

CRAASH!

The seat flew into the wall, knocking down a chunk of plaster the size of a truck tire.

Then, "Oh, no!" A vague voice from the cluster of onlookers. "Someone, help!" And, "Grandpa!"

<Rachel?> It was Ax. From the control room, unseen by the visitors. <I have accomplished my task. But I am hemmed in. There is a human with a gun. I do not wish to injure him.>