The inner locks were open!
Dry-lipped, Boone threw the second switch.
Motors. Red light. Green light. Silence.
Or almost silence. For now a whistling sound came dimly, apparent even within the building.
The sound of the ramp-bubble's precious atmosphere escaping!
Swinging up a heavy beryllium wrench, Boone smashed the switches.
That made his gamble good for fifteen minutes' leeway ... a quarter of an hour at least that the locks would stay jammed open.
Boone threw down the wrench. Then, pivoting, he strode to the door and jerked it open.
On all sides, in the distance, men were running, shouting. There was a low roar of atmosphere compressors, trying to compensate for the changing pressure. Now sirens blasted.
While he watched, a surface carrier skidded around a warehouse and hurtled towards the airlock power station.