The outpour of animals came from a low lying mound a mile farther on. Evidently the telepathic source lay there. They approached it warily.
"We'll be taking our chances on guard," hissed Irish. "I'll go ahead, draw their attention, maybe get captured. Then, you show up with your gun...."
"I haven't got one."
"We'll chance it, then. You stick here until I see what's ahead. They probably got scanners out. Let them see me—"
And before Hathaway could object, Marnagan walked off. He walked about five hundred yards, bent down, applied his fingers to something, heaved up, and there was a door opening in the rock.
His voice came back across the distance, into Click's earphones. "A door, an air-lock, Click. A tunnel leading down inside!"
Then, Marnagan dropped into the tunnel, disappearing. Click heard the thud of his feet hitting the metal flooring.
Click sucked in his breath, hard and fast.
"All right, put 'em up!" a new harsh voice cried over a different radio. One of Gunther's guards.
Three shots sizzled out, and Marnagan bellowed.