Gaines blinked, his eyes following Sokolski as the latter looked up from his work and rose to his feet.
"Joe—still there?" came Lister's impatient voice.
"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, this baby's ready for the demo treatment. And a real hot one, Harry. Coupla years inside that Einstein oven and you ain't exactly baked Alaska when you come out."
"Shortly."
Once again came the same sharp, metallic clang, ringing through the room. Unmistakably, it came from the direction of the pile. Slowly, as though reluctant to let go, Gaines dropped the receiver back on its cradle.
"Bert—" he began, and felt his face grow bloodless.
Sokolski walked over in front of the opening into the maze and stood, arms akimbo, huge head cocked to one side, listening.
"Bert, funny noises coming out of nuclear—"
Sokolski ignored him and took a step forward. Gaines shuffled to his side, and they listened.
Out of the maze rattled half a dozen loud, grinding, metallic concussions.