"It's in," yelled Nichols, slamming the leaden cover down and locking it.
It took the three of them to budge it, to slide it across the floor.
"Hell," panted Mussdorf. "We'll never make it. Once we get it into the corridor, that black fiend'll be on top of us again."
Somehow they got it out of the Chamber, and scraped it along the corridor. Luckily, the way was level, and the ramp that lead from the Chamber of the Cones to the great square was smooth. But in the square they ran into an unsurmountable difficulty. There was no way to lift it into the spaceship.
"We can't do it," acknowledged Emerson glumly. "It would take a crane to lift that."
Mussdorf kicked at the box, and swore. Nichols ran quivering fingers through his hair, trembling.
Then Emerson started to grin.
"A crane, sure. We have one here, if we can only make it work. The thing, the black thing. He's as strong as any crane I ever saw!"
"Think he'll do it?" asked Mussdorf.
"I can try. Maybe a threat to use the solar blasters on him will do the trick."