As they swarmed up one at a time, Lynn, who was standing just behind him, ran her hands swiftly over them from neck to toes. They were carrying no concealed weapons.
"You're invited to lunch before we show you about." He glanced at his watch as a gong sounded from down the passage. "It's served now. If you'll just step this way...."
"No tricks," admonished Margot in a suspicious voice. "The rocket gun is still trained on the ship."
"No tricks." He grinned amiably. When they came to the messroom door, he stood aside for them to enter. Cloths had been laid, tables set. Food steamed on the side-board.
They trooped inside, giggling and chattering. No sooner had the last girl passed across the threshold than Matt slammed the heavy door and barred it.
A glance down the passage assured him that Lynn had the ladder up and the airlock sealed.
Dimly, he was aware of angry yells from the messroom, the thud of boots against the bulkhead. He grinned. Door and bulkheads were of heavy steel.
He stepped to the ladder well and blew shrilly on a whistle.
The deep rumble of the jets answered at once as Captain Bascom threw in the controls. Sheets of roaring flame bounced from the ground up past the ports.
From the outside, Matt realized, the Argus must present an awe inspiring sight cloaked in fire. He felt the deck shudder, then press strongly against the soles of his feet.