Martin raised an arm, and the particles swirled in stately, shimmering spirals.
Rodney leaned forward and looked over the edge of the hatch. He said nothing. He eyed the sparkling particles swirling about Martin, and now, himself.
"How deep," Wass said, from his safe distance.
"We'll have to lower a flashlight," Martin answered.
Rodney, all eagerness to be of assistance now, lowered a rope with a torch swinging wildly on the end of it.
The torch came to rest about thirty feet down. It shone on gently rolling mounds of fine, white stuff.
Martin anchored the rope soundly, and paused, half across the lip of the hatch to stare coldly at Wass. "You'd rather monkey with the switches and blow yourself to smithereens?"