"But you can never maintain control without a full crew," Marta said.
"I have crew enough," Kotenko told her. "Without the X-factor, complete control is not so important."
Chandler leaped for Kotenko, but the Russian's gun blasted white flame. A searing pain ripped into Chandler's chest. He fell to his knees.
The soldier's rifle cracked and Kotenko's silhouette crumbled against the control lever. Electro-mechanisms whirred and the drill suddenly plunged into the depths of the Earth, carrying most of Kotenko's crew with it.
"Good God!" someone cried.
Marta was kneeling beside Chandler, tears streaming down her face. "Paul!" she sobbed. "Oh, Paul!"
Chandler could taste the warm saltiness of blood in his mouth. "Get the control crew here—quick," he gasped.
Someone moved for the stairs while someone else leaped for the field control unit.
Chandler's foggy mind touched reality for brief moments, condensing time into a montage. A doctor was working on him, then shaking his head at the sobbing Marta. Lights were thrown on and control posts manned. Someone yelled, "Throw in force fields behind it!" And all the time Chandler's chest pulsed with pain.
"Can't stop it!" someone shouted. Then chaos broke loose; men were running, blindly bumping into one another.