“And you say that this door mechanism has moving parts, lots of them?”
“Moving parts are nothing to be afraid of,” Quemos said. “Here, look at this.” He put something small on the table, much in the manner of a young boy dropping a garter snake in the midst of school girls. Bullard and Hansen crowded around. “Now, take turns,” said Quemos sharply, “and don’t drop it. It’s priceless, I assure you.” The ancient wrist watch with its transparent back was passed from hand to hand.
“Frightening little monster, isn’t it,” Bullard said.
“Those small round wheels are called gears,” elucidated Quemos, “one gear turns another, which turns another, and so on. I rather imagine that your door is operated on some similar principle.”
“I seem to be the one who asks all the schoolboy questions,” Hansen began, “would somebody tell me why Captain Fromer doesn’t take His Excellency to his home planet, land the ship, and then let his technical staff tear off the door mechanism?”
“We’ve gone through that,” Bullard said wearily. “Unfortunately we need special tools. And there’s no way to get them into the ship.”
“Can I speak to Captain Fromer?” Quemos asked.
“Right away,” Hansen said. He pressed his hand in various patterns on his belt. “This is Hansen. Let us talk to Captain Fromer, please.”
“Fromer here. Who is it?”
“Dr. Quemos speaking. How is your passenger?”