Westervelt thought he heard Parrish swear, then realized it had been his own voice. He started to step in front of Simonetta.
Parrish was moving slowly in Lydman's direction, trying to look at ease but looking tense instead.
"Dammit!" shouted Smith. "Beryl, you're fired!"
It did not seem to register on anybody, Beryl least of all. Lydman was confounding them all by standing quietly. His face tightened a little more at the news, but it did not seem to be the expression of a man who had just taken a bad jolt.
"I know," he said. "I looked at it a couple of times after I saw the blackout downstairs."
Smith regarded him warily.
"How do you feel, Bob?" he asked.
"You know how I feel," said Lydman.
He let his gaze wander from one to another of them. Westervelt felt a chill as the handsome eyes looked through him in turn, but accepted the comforting realization that the stare was about as usual.
Beryl was the picture of a girl afraid to breathe out loud, but the others relaxed cautiously. Smith even planted one hip on the corner of Simonetta's desk and tried to look casual.