Malone ignored the bait, and drew himself to his full height. "Gentlemen," he said solemnly, "Her Majesty has asked that all of us attend her in audience. She has information of the utmost gravity to impart, and wishes this audience at once."
Dr. Gamble made a puzzled, circular gesture with one hand. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Is something—"
The hand dropped—"wrong?"
Burris barely glanced at him. A startled expression came over his features. "Has she—" he began, and stopped, leaving his mouth open and the rest of the sentence unfinished.
Malone nodded gravely and drew in a breath. Elizabethan periods were hard on the lungs, he had begun to realize: you needed a lot of air before you embarked on a sentence. "I believe, gentlemen," he said, "that Her Majesty is about to reveal the identity of the spy who has been battening on Project Isle."
The silence lasted no more than three seconds. Dr. Gamble didn't even make a gesture during that time. Then Burris spoke.
"Let's go," he snapped. He wheeled and headed for the door. The others promptly followed.
"Gentlemen!" Malone said, sounding, as far as he could tell, properly shocked and offended. "Your dress!"
"What?" Dr. Gamble said, throwing up both hands.
"Oh, no," Boyd chimed in. "Not now."