"Sure," the guard sneered. "He wasn't doin' a thing. Just snoopin' around, that's all."
The swinging door opened.
"What's going on here?"
Ron Carver looked at himself; at his own face, now strange and stony; at his own eyes, now bright and disinterested; at his own mouth, now a thin line of discontent. He heard his own voice, in a dangerous inflection he had never known before.
"Sorry, sir," the guard said, reddening. "Didn't know you were inside. Wouldn't have disturbed you—"
"How did he get here?"
"Gosh, sir, I really don't know. He says he was lookin' for Dr. Minton—"
"Minton," Ron Carver's voice said. "Yes, of course. He would be looking for Minton, wouldn't he?"
"Sir?"
"Never mind. Bring the boy into my quarters. Then get Dr. Minton up here at once."