"Right, Sarge," Jansen had time to say before the sergeant popped the comm line out of his helmet and went to the next man in line.

Once the sergeant had relayed his message to every trooper in the squad he hustled back up to the front with the officers. He looked funny in the spacesuit, a short thickset figure in the heavy white suit, like a snowman with an assault rifle and a bandolier of grenades flapping lazily against his sides with every stride he took.

Jansen realized that no one could hear anything he said. Grinning delightedly, he called out, "You look stupid, Sarge!"

No reaction from anyone.

"You look like a fat white grub! You and the idiot officers, too!" he said in Norwegian.

The sergeant turned his way and for an instant Jansen's heart froze in his chest. But then the sergeant pointed to the hatch up ahead and motioned for the squad to follow him.

"Seal the hatches," Doug commanded quietly.

"We got 'em in the cages," said Anson, leaning over his shoulder. "Now we lock 'em in."

"Airlock hatches sealed," came the voice of one of the control technicians.

Doug turned to O'Malley. "Start your dust."

"Right," said O'Malley, tight-lipped.

Something made Jansen turn around as he started marching toward the next hatch. To his surprise, he saw the airlock they had already passed through sliding shut.

"Hey!" he yelped. "It's closing!"

No one heard him.

He stopped, and the trooper behind him bumped into him, jostling them both.

Jansen pointed and hollered louder, "They shut the hatch behind us!"

The whole line, from Jansen to the rear, came to a stop. Jansen turned toward the officers up front and waved his arms. "They shut the hatch behind us!" he screamed.

They paid not the slightest attention until they stopped at the closed hatch up front. Then, turning, they seemed to jerk with surprise—whether from seeing the hatch to their rear closed off or from seeing half the squad loitering down the corridor, it was impossible for Jansen to tell.

He pointed at the closed hatch, jabbing his gloved hand in its direction several times. The sergeant came clomping down the corridor toward him, radiating anger even though his spacesuit.

"It's closed," Jansen said to the unhearing sergeant.

The lights seemed to be going dimmer. Jansen blinked and reflexively wiped at his visor. His glove left a dark smear across the tinted plastiglass.

"What's happening?" he asked, feeling the edge of panic. He was going blind. The world outside his helmet was nothing more than a misty blur. And it was getting darker by the second.

"What is happening in there?" Giap demanded.

The captain, the only person who could hear him, pointed across the expanse of the garage. "It looks as if the inner hatches have closed."

"Closed?" Giap fumbled with his binoculars, got them to his visor, and swept his field of view across the four airlocks. The inner hatches of each of each of them was sealed tight.