More footsteps pounded toward them, and the remaining men of the power crew arrived.
“All right, now let’s take a look at these circuits,” said Mike.
Chief Multhaus had already flipped open all the panels and was peering inside. The men lined the torches up on the desk in the corner, in order to shed as much light as possible over the banks of low-power wiring, and went over to where Multhaus and Mike the Angel were standing.
“Dig out three replacement switches—heavy-duty six-double-oh-B-nines,” said Multhaus. There was a touch of disgust and a good-sized serving of anger and irritation in his voice.
Mike the Angel surveyed the damage. “See anything else, Multhaus?”
“No, sir. That’s it.”
Mike nodded. “About five minutes’ work to get the main switch going, which will give us power, and another ten minutes for the first and second stand-bys. Go ahead and take over, Multhaus; you won’t need me. I’ll go find out what the bloody unprintable is going on around here.”
Mike the Angel ran into Captain Sir Henry Quill as he went up the companionway to the bridge.
“What happened?” demanded the captain in his gravelly tenor voice.