Back at the Citadel, preparations for a mass evacuation began the moment Tom’s message was received. Mr. Swift supervised the orderly withdrawal.
ATOR’S TRIUMPH 205
Wailing sirens sounded throughout the reserve, and soon buildings and dormitories were emptied of personnel. Trucks and trailers, lined up at the gate, quickly filled with workers, and security police in jeeps raced to outlying testing grounds to pick up stragglers.
Within forty-five minutes the plant was cleared. Mr. Swift, who was driving the last truck, gave the signal to move out. The convoy rolled slowly through the exit, then picked up speed. Soon the caravan, racing along at a fast clip, stretched out for five miles over the wasteland.
Moments after the evacuation, Radnor landed the Sky Queen vertically only a few hundred yards from the main building. The jet lifters blasted the sand beneath them into a fused glassy substance. He taxied directly to the concrete housing of the pile and Bud and Tom dropped from the plane. Dashing toward the entrance, they both stopped short. Red warning lights were on.
“The pile is in operation!” Tom exclaimed. “Raymond must have used one of his timing devices to start it. We’ll never get near that oven now. If the plant is going to be saved, Ator will have to do it!”
They ran to the control house. Mr. Swift had taken the precaution of leaving the robot’s control panel on stand-by, so no warm-up period was needed. Tom marched Ator to the ramp and the robot descended into the tunnel.