Dowland hefted the object and shook his head. "Lady, by the weight of it, this thing's metasteel. The stuff they use for bank vaults and the hulls of battleships. And it looks as if the door to your uncles' laboratory has an atomic lock because that's what this type of key is made for. Do you know if the building's lined with steel inside?" "It might be. Miguel told me that it had been extremely expensive to build, that he had wanted to make sure no one could get into it while he was away." "If it's built of metasteel, he's done just that," Dowland said. "And that makes it tough." He looked at the key in his hand. "What does this key fit into?" "I don't know. But I'm sure there's no other door on the ranch that has an--an atomic lock. I found the key in Miguel's pocket this morning." "Well, it's probably no good to us," Dowland said. "Now look, Miss Trelawney. I'm carrying a protection gun that can be stepped up to around six times the shock power of a heavy rifle slug. I'll try that out at full charge on the lock to the lab, and then around the walls. But if it's all metasteel, shooting at it won't get us anywhere. Then we might make another search for that key. Or I could try getting down off the mesa to get help." Jill looked doubtful. "There's no easy way down off the mesa even in daylight. And at night it would be worse." Dowland said, "That part of it won't be too much of a problem. I brought mountaineering equipment along this trip--planned to pick up a Marco Polo ram and a few ewes--piton gun, clamp pitons, half-mile of magnetic rope; the works. Question is, how much good will it do? I've got a camp communicator, but it's grid-powered, and we don't know how far the power failure extends around here at ground level. Is there anyone down in the plain we could contact? They might have horses." She shock her head. "I would have heard of that. You could wander around there for weeks before you were seen." Dowland was silent a moment. "Well," he said, "it should be worth a try if we can't accomplish anything within another few hours. Judging from my car's position when its power went off, it shouldn't really be more than a ten-mile hike from the bottom of the mesa before I can start using the communicator. But, of course, it will take up a lot of time. So we'll see what we can do here first." He slipped his jacket on. "You'd better stay with your uncle, Miss Trelawney. I--" He interrupted himself. An unearthly din had begun suddenly outside the house--whistling squeals, then an angry ear-shattering noise somewhere between a howl and a roar. The girl started, then smiled nervously. Dowland asked, "What is _that_?" "Miguel's pigs. I expect they're simply hungry. The feeding equipment in the animal house isn't operating either, of course." "Pigs? I've heard pigs make a racket, but never anything like that."