"We'll take the gun."
Baker's eyebrows rose. "Impossible. This is the only weapon on the planet."
"That's all right with us. Hand it over and we'll tell you all about our invention."
"I'm sorry, this weapon must remain in our hands. We're responsible for maintaining order and stability—it wouldn't make sense for anyone else to have custody of it. Now let's get on with the business. This box, I presume—"
"Not a word until we get the gun," Harvey said.
Baker's eyes narrowed. "Young man, you'd better hold your tongue. Dr. Lurie, I'm talking to you. I want the facts—immediately. And I must tell you, you're in no position to negotiate. Now speak up."
"I, sir—I—" Dr. Lurie's voice broke—he began again—"I'll do what Mr. Flanders says—"
"We'll see about that," Baker said grimly. He stood up. "You're coming with me. Carsing, take the box."
Carsing, holding the gun out warily in front of him, moved to the table.
"Don't you dare open it!" Ruth cried out.