"Only, sometimes, it turns out that the ordinary citizens have got to do the job the military was supposed to do, but didn't!" Bitterness sounded in March's voice. "This is A deck, isn't it, the lowest deck in the ship?"
"I suppose so. I don't know how many decks the Andromeda has."
"Hmmm. And this storage room they've got us caught in is just inside the main lock, isn't it. You come in through the main lock and go straight down the passage and turn to the left and you're here. Isn't that right?"
"I—I hardly noticed," Craig answered. He didn't add that he had too many other things to think about to notice where they were being taken.
"That's right," Mary answered.
"If this is A deck—" the old man muttered. They heard him move away. In the darkness he stumbled over a box and apologized to Mary for the profanity. "Swear all you please, Adam," the girl said. "I'll swear with you, if that will help. What are you trying to do?"
A light flared as the old man struck a match. He was down on his knees against the far bulkhead. The match went out. Adam grunted. Metal scraped in the darkness, thudded on the floor. A square opening was revealed. Dim light came through it. Grunting with satisfaction, Adam crawled through it. "Come on, you two," his voice came from the other side.
They crawled through the opening and found themselves in what was obviously one of the main holds. Adam March, the monkey wrench gripped firmly in his hand, grinned at them.
"How did you know that opening was there?" Craig demanded.
"I kind of sensed it would be there."