I didn't say anything else for a while. I could feel myself sweating under the helmet, and momentarily, at least, I had run out of things to say.
Someone else came to my rescue. For the first time, one of the other party attempted direct intercom communication.
"Hey you out there," a voice said. "This is Reardon, in charge of this outfit." He sounded afraid. "Lay off or we'll blast these two prisoners I got...."
"You're telling me to lay off?" I demanded, trying to think of something to say. "You're telling me to lay off? That's rich."
"What do you mean?" The voice was still frightened, and I began to feel a little better. They had fallen for this so far all the way.
"What do I care what you do to those two? They're a couple of homesteaders who happened to barge in here, an old man and a girl. Go ahead, kill 'em. What's the difference, you'll follow in a couple of minutes."
That got him. "Wait," he said. "Hold it, please."
I yawned, loud enough for the intercom to pick it up. I hoped I wasn't overdoing it. "Mike," I drawled, "set that thing up so we can finish the job and get out of here, eh? Now, be careful. Connect that dampening rig like that, that's it. Careful. Just make sure the pole fits into that hole real snug. There you are. You did it...."
"You sure you wanta use this thing on them, chief?" I had Mike say.