gown.

"Take care of her, Samuel. Both of you'd better get out of here,"
Gregory said.

"The Lord of Hosts is my strength, He will.... Uggggh!" Samuel gasped.

"Conditioning's getting him, too; we gotta be quick," Carl said. "Here.
This is what you'll use." He handed Benson a two-inch globe of black
plastic. "Take the damn thing, quick! Little button on the side; press
it, and get it out of your hand fast...." He retched. "Limited-effect
bomb; everything within two-meter circle burned to nothing; outside
that, great but not unendurable heat. Shut your eyes when you throw it.
Flash almost blinding." He dropped his cigar and turned almost green in
the face. Walter had a drink poured and handed it to him. "Uggh! Thanks,
Walter." He downed it.

"Peculiar sort of thing for a non-violent people to manufacture," Benson
said, looking at the bomb and then putting it in his jacket pocket.

"It isn't a weapon. Industrial; we use it in mining. I used plenty of
them, in Walter's iron mines."

He nodded again. "Where do I stand, now?" he asked.

"Right over here." Gregory placed him in front of a small panel with
three buttons. "Press the middle one, and step back into the small red
circle and stand perfectly still while the field builds up and
collapses. Face that way."