Nolan shook his head. "Something in my shoe," he said. He halted and balanced himself on one foot, poking into the offending footgear. "A button, I guess," he said as drew out, concealed, something that he knew quite well was not a button.
He breathed a silent prayer, and it was answered. The Venusian grunted and turned away. Nolan walked quickly over to the wall, by the lock light, turned and stood surveying the scene without interest. His hands apparently were linked idly behind him—but behind his back they were moving swiftly, dexterously. A clink of glass sounded, and Nolan winced as a sharp sliver cut his thumb. Then he stood motionless, waiting.
The men were shock-wrapping a long, casket-like object. To judge by the care they were using, the contents were delicate and the handling would be rough, Nolan noted absently. Explosives, perhaps?
The last loop of elastic webbing went around it, and the Venusian second pulled it taut. "All right," he grunted. "Take it away."
"Lock!" bawled Woller as the men picked up the bundle. That was Nolan's signal.
As slowly as he could manage he stepped idly away from the lock, away from the signal light, hugging the wall.
A deckhand, not troubling to look at the warning light across the corridor—Nolan mentally thanked his gods—touched the release that opened the lock door. And—
Ravenous flame lashed out from the wall.
IV