Nobody offered up his or her services, possibly because nobody wanted to be held responsible for causing a meltdown in the multimillion-dollar storage coil. There also was a more practical reason.
"Georges LeFarge was in charge of the countdown," a coughing, nervously shaking young man finally volunteered. "He's not here now. The Israeli guy took him over to Launch." He paused. "But the Fujitsu is in auto mode now. We can't just flip a switch, at least not without doing horrific damage to the coil. It has to be discharged through the Cyclops."
"Then can you do that?" Hans asked.
"Not without Cally or Georges here," he replied decisively. "You screw it up and you're talking millions of dollars." He shrugged. "No way would I attempt it without somebody's say-so." His voice trailed off.
Hans pondered this, then shrugged. "Okay, you're saying everybody here is scared to tinker with the Cyclops. So we'll still have to take down Launch and get to the vehicle." He glanced back toward the smoky room, thinking aloud. "But we were going to have to anyway, to get Ramirez. Once we're there, maybe we can find a way to disable the vehicle some other way."
The staffer looked dubious. "I don't know how. There's only one real way to do it, by bleeding off the Cyclops. Anything else would be too dangerous. Maybe—"
"Hans," Armont was shouting, interrupting them. "Come and help Willem carry Dimitri through the tunnel. Do you remember where the medical room was from the blueprints?"
"I memorized everything," he shouted back. "What do you think I get paid for?"
'Then get on with it. Maybe there'll be somebody there who can help out. Otherwise, you two just became doctors."
"I'll save him," Willem declared, trying to sound as confident as he could. He knew, as they all did, that it would be a long shot. "But what are you going to do now? We still have to get Ramirez."