And the doors kept closing under Browne's nimble fingering at the
console down below. Suddenly the area was cut down to the passenger
shaft foyer, and the three of us were weaving about, like two tackles
after the fastest fullback of all time. I leaped forward and actually
laid a hand on the alien for a split second, just enough to topple
him off balance so that Fitzgerald, charging in, managed to bump him
successfully into the shaft. A surprised cry came ringing back up the
shaft; Browne had obviously cut the lift's power supply completely.