(Of the orals themselves, he recalled very little. They’d asked him things. He’d answered as best he could. He’d stood out in the hallway again afterward, this time with the door closed against him, while the committee decided his fate. Only when Professor Krikorian emerged with a smile on his face and with his arm thrust out for a congratulatory handshake was Jerry sure he’d passed.)

He knew he would remember this approach across puddled steel the same way he remembered that shorter trip to the other side of the corridor. If he lived to be ninety, both would stay vivid in his mind. And if he didn’t live to be ninety … it was liable to be because he died in the next couple of minutes. He tried without much luck not to think about that.

He wrote on the scratch pad again and showed it to Steve. Stay well back. If it’s too cold or too hot in there, don’t let it get us both.

Steve held his pad out at arm’s length as he wrote his reply. Where Jerry had trouble seeing at a distance, the older man couldn’t focus in close. Jerry had to lean in to make out his words: I want to be able to help you if I need to.

See what happens to me before you get close, Jerry wrote. He nodded vigorously to emphasize that, and pointed at Steve to drive it home. Then he waited till Steve nodded. Steve wanted to be brave. Jerry didn’t want him to be stupid—or to need to be brave.

He squeezed between the claw and the spaceship. The lower edge of the circle ran at about the level of his waist. He looked for a doorbell or a latch or anything suggesting a way to signal or a way in. Finding none, he did what anyone facing a closed door might do. He knocked.

He heard the sound his latex-covered knuckles made. It didn’t sound like knocking on metal—more as if he were hitting pottery or wood. It felt … odd. He wasn’t sure he’d actually touched anything material.

After a minute or so, he knocked again. He waited one more minute, thinking hard. He’d done a lot of that since talking with Dale, and before, too. He found himself in the same pickle as Frodo, Gandalf, and the rest of the Nine Walkers in front of the Doors of Durin, with wolves closing in. Durin’s doors stayed stubbornly closed, too.

They did, at any rate, till Gandalf solved their riddle. Jerry thought the same trick worth a try. The best thing it had going for it was, he didn’t see how it could hurt.

Thinking friendly thoughts, he yanked out his mouthpiece and loudly said, “Friend!” Quick as he could, he stuffed it back in. By the time he drew his next breath, the doorway had opened.