The twin red laser beams burned through the brass shaft periscope, hovering two inches from Julian’s eyes.
Down in the gloomy green light of the inverted Sub-Level 1 reception lobby below the -100 ft null-plane, Director 07 stood waiting. Through the open hoistway, the stainless-steel turnstile arms of Model 1924 clicked with the relentless beat of an executioner’s metronome: tink-tink-tink.
Inside Julian’s breast pocket, Arthur Pendelton’s Casio register flashed the countdown on its small LCD screen:
[RECEIVERSHIP COUNTDOWN: 00:00:05]
[CURRENT TIME: 00:59:55 AM]
[UPPER STAGING COLLAR LOCK: RELEASING IN 5 SECONDS]
[NEXT THRESHOLD: -100 FT GRAVITATIONAL INVERSION PLANE]
Julian didn’t look at the laser targets. He looked down at his own hands.
