"They've been sent to destroy our signal generator," Dr. Norvel said matter of factly.
Technicians glanced anxiously at the suddenly unsubstantial walls. There was no protection. They were exposed as completely as if they were alone on a flat, barren tennis court of infinite dimensions.
"Cut off the transmitter!" the general ordered. "Find Walt's interference frequency!"
"... too late," Julia said. "We haven't time."
"We could be lucky!" the general insisted. "Pick a frequency range. Maybe we can hit the right one. Hurry up, for Christ's sake; you, there—!"
"But we can't cut the transmitter off," Dr. Norvel pleaded. "It would release the other mutants. Give them even five minutes...."
"I can hold them off for awhile," Walt said. "I can shield myself from the radiations of the focus rod. All the mutants have to be able to. I think I can shield the building against them; I think I have the advantage of knowing more than they do. I don't know how long I can hold such an extended shield—Until they come in after me, I guess."
"We'll stop them," the general said. "We'll stop them at the door."
"You can't," Julia said. She was slowly rousing from her stupor. "They can displace."
"I can't hold off five of them long," Walt said. "Not and hold the shield."