He knelt for stability — the suit was very heavy; if you fell over you sometimes couldn't get up by yourself. He leaned over the box. Said into the radio, “I'm looking at C-3 or C-4, maybe six ounces, timer face up. If it's accurate, we got ten leisurely minutes. Don't see any rocker switches.”

Rocker switches were the problem. Little switches that set off the bomb if it's moved.

But not seeing them didn't mean there weren't any.

He probed into the box with a pencil.

“You going to render safe?” Rubin asked.

"No, looks like the timer's pretty fancy. I'm betting there's a shunt, but I can see the circuitry. I'm not going to cut anything. I'm going to bring it out.

“Okay, here we go.” He reached down. The gloves were plated, but Healy knew he was looking at enough plastic to snap a steel beam. The theory was that there wasn't much you could do about your hands anyway. At least, if anything happened, you'd be alive afterward to retire on disability, even if somebody else had to endorse the checks for you.

Healy squinted — pointlessly — and lifted the box off the ground. You had to be careful — you tended to think that explosives were going to be heavy as iron weights. They weren't. The whole thing didn't weigh more than a pound.

“No rocker,” he said to the microphone. The smell of his own sweat was strong. He breathed slowly. “Or maybe I've got steady hands.”

“Doing good, Sam.”

The timer on the clock showed seven minutes until detonation.

Healy backed out into the aisle, sliding his feet behind slowly to feel the way. He set the box into the arms of the robot.

“This place is gross,” Healy said.

“Okay, we'll take over,” Rubin told him.

Healy didn't argue. He dropped his hands to his side and walked backward until he felt Rubin tap him on the shoulder.

Rubin drove the robot out of the theater and up the ramp to the containment chamber, which fellow Bomb Squad officers had driven up from the garage connected to the 6th Precinct. It looked like a small diving bell on a platform. He gingerly manipulated the remote controls to get the box inside. The robot backed away and Healy approached the open door from the side. He pulled a wire to close the door most of the way, then quickly stepped in front and spun the lever. He stepped back.

Rubin helped him out of the suit.

“Whatsa time?” Rubin asked.

“I make it about a minute to go.”

Rune broke through the police line and ran up to Healy. She squeezed his arm.

He pushed her around behind him.

“Sam, are you all right?”

“Shh. Listen.”

“I —”

“Shhhh,” Healy said.

Suddenly, a loud ping — it sounded like a hammer on a muffled bell. Smoke and fumes began to hiss out of the side of the changer. A sour, tear-gassy smell filled the air.