But Avery was on his knees, pounding Rothman with both fists, sobbing out meaningless words, oblivious to the shouts outside and to MacPherson's tugging.
The door burst open and Joe rushed in, followed by two other attendants.
"What goes on?" After a glance at Avery's contorted face, Joe grabbed for his legs. "Send for the doc, boys. We're going to need help."
One of the men ran down the corridor while Joe and the others succeeded in pulling Avery away from Rothman, who struggled to his feet. A doctor came in with a loaded hypodermic. He gave Avery an injection in the arm.
"Go easy there," said MacPherson. "He'll be all right in a few minutes. He's had a shock, that's all."
"Shock," Avery mumbled.
MacPherson gripped Avery's arm. "Try to relax, man. It's finished. We never believed in it, of course. But I'll admit it's a relief, even to me, to be sure there was no danger of a chain reaction at all."
Suddenly he felt cold.
There was no understanding in Avery's eyes. He slumped to the floor.