Mira caught his wrist against the stone.
The key stopped a hand’s breadth from the housing. She turned his palm outward, keeping the artifact’s point away from the socket, and hooked her boot behind his nearer heel. He tried to pull free. His balance went, and she went down with him slowly enough that his shoulder met the clear floor rather than the metal.
“Other arm,” she said.
The supporter knelt beyond the housing and pinned the man’s free forearm. Mira kept the wrist turned until the engineer could reach between them. The engineer did not yank at the key. She took its weight, asked Mira to ease one finger, and slid it out through the opening that made.
Then it was gone from his hand.
Mira stayed over him. He was breathing hard, face turned against the floor, and she could feel the effort he still made to lift his arm. His heel struck her boot. She moved her knee clear of his ribs and told the supporter not to press on his chest.
The engineer backed out with the key held away from her body.
“Has anything started?” Mira asked.
