Twenty minutes later, I stood ready to go.
The others glanced at me with the peculiar hesitancy and indecision of people who think they should make farewell speeches but find the words too scarce. A couple of nods, a half-wave of the hand, and they all left me.
All except Fitzgerald, who gazed at me with a concerned expression on his face.
"You don't have to do this."
He told me, almost pleading.
"Somebody has too, and I wasn't going to allow Dr Ryder in there."
"What will happen if you are infected with the foot-and-mouth variant?"
"Do you have a gun?"
"No."
"Then let's hope I don't get infected."
The hazmat garments, tight and constricting, the internal respiration apparatus cut into the back of my neck, and the high density of air made my mouth dry.
I tried to think of one compelling reason I shouldn't go through the door. This didn't help either. So many convincing reasons I couldn't pick between them, so I didn't bother trying.
I made a last careful check of outfit, mask, and oxygen cylinders, but I only kidded myself. This would be my fifth last inspection. They all followed my every movement as I started spelling out the combination on the door, which Sheena Ryder told me a few moments earlier.
A somewhat complicated and delicate operation, the procedure of unlocking the door made more difficult by reinforced-rubber covered fingers and insufficient vision afforded by slanted goggles. An instant after I began, the heavy impact of the central bolt followed, and the half-ton door slid open under the full weight of my shoulder.
I picked up the hamster's enclosure and eased past the door. With my side prevented its swing, before pulling, closing with an echoing thud. Three turns of the inner circular knob and the vault door locked again. The chances I wiped off several prints in the process would be high, but doubtful, though, if any impressions mattered.
The rubber-sealed frosted glass door leading into the effluent plant stood at the other end of the tiny vestibule. Further delay would achieve nothing - nothing apart from prolonging my life. I leaned on a fifteen-inch elbow handle, pushed the door ajar, passed inside, and closed the door behind me.
No need to switch on any lamps - this area remained illuminated by shadowless neon lighting. Whoever broke into here, either figured the Government might be a substantial enough firm to stand the waste of electricity, he departed in such a tearing hurry. He left himself no time to turn off the lights.
With no time or inclination to think about the illuminations, my sole over-primary concern continued to be the immediate welfare of my little friend.
I placed the box on a bench, whipped off the cover, and stared at the little critter. No bound man seated on a powder keg ever gazed at a sputtering fuse with half the mesmerized fascination, the total-exclusive concentration with which I gawked at the bloody hamster.
The starving cat with an up-raised paw by the mouse hole, the mongoose waiting for the king-cobra to attack, the ruined gambler watching the last card - contrasted to me, would be asleep on the job. If ever the human eye possessed the power of transfixion, I would skewer this poor little thing alive.
Fifteen seconds, Sheena said, and if the methane vapour stood present in the atmosphere, my little furry friend would react. I counted down the time, each second a bell tolling towards eternity, and at the precise moment the damned rodent twitched.
Nothing though compared to the way my heart behaved.
A minute elapsed. Perhaps Dr. Ryder over-estimated the virulence of the gas, or my little buddy held a robust and resistant physique.
Sheena didn't strike me as the sort of scientist who would make any mistakes, and this appeared like a rather puny creature to me. For the first time since entering the room, I used the ventilating equipment.
I swung the top of the cage back on its hinges and lifted out the animal. Still in excellent shape, he wriggled out of my hand, jumped down on to the floor, and scurried away up a passage between the table and a wall-bench. He stopped at the far end to scratch his nose again.
I concluded he survived. I would too. I outweighed the little fellow. I unbuckled the straps behind my neck and pulled off the breathing device. I took a long breath.
This proved a mistake.