In moments they had assembled those whom the
airbot had not found. Only four men had been disabled by the airbot's
beams.
"Take us out of here, George," ordered Zip. His voice was quiet but
carried the authority of leadership that people welcome when there is a
crisis. Using the fireman's carry, eight men easily transported the
four who were unconscious.
George St. George turned without a word and led the way. Everyone
followed. St. George came to the end of the walkway and turned to the
left around the last row of storage units. On his right was a bank of
elevator doors, some large and some small. He came to the first one and
with his hand shaking pressed some numbers into a control panel.
Nothing happened.
He looked up to Zip with a countenance marked with anguish and pleaded,
"I can't do it. My fingers won't work. Mr. Foster, you press the
numbers, please." Zip stepped up to the panel. As the asteroid miner
called out the directions, Zip pressed the buttons.
"Top center. Right center. Top right. Top right again. Bottom left.
Center. Sorry, I'm a little shaken up."
"That's okay, George. I think we'll be fine now." The elevator door
opened and all the men stepped into the conveyance. The door closed.
George reached out and pressed one button. The elevator began to
move-not down or up as the men expected, but away from the chamber
where they had fought the airbot.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121