"You will not lack for comfort," Frane said, "but you must remain here until time for the transition. I promise it will be soon!" There was pride in his tone, as though conferring a great honor upon them. He employed a metal device in the arched doorway. A sheet of crackling color passed across it, effectively barring the entrance.
Rikert leaped forward in a last effort, but a searing heat from the barrier stopped him. Bitterly he turned back.
"Fine thing, Emmons! If you'd let me blast that hunk of brain-trust when I had the chance—"
"You'd be dead now, and the rest of us with you! Can't you ungroove that brain of yours, Rikert?"
Rikert surged forward, fists clenched, but Jeffers stepped between the men.
"I don't know, Emmons," Jeffers said slowly. "I think Rikert had the thing scared there for a minute. Didn't you notice the way it moved back from the electro—"
"It was a darn fool thing to try, and this kind of talk isn't helping us!" Curt turned abruptly, began examining the room.
Walls, floor and ceiling seemed to be of solid-hewed stone with no break of any kind. The arched doorway failed to reveal the source of the radiant barrier; it was electronic, Curt was sure.
Lorine was a pitiful figure, despair making an unreal mask of her face. All the fine courage that had carried her this far, seemed to fail her now.
Once more Tor hummed the high-pitched aria which Curt hadn't heard since they left Mercury. The tune seemed to sustain the little Martian in times of trouble. Jeffers and Rikert were aimless automatons pacing the room.