Skater didn’t argue. A line of bullets from a yabo still in the ductwork suddenly chattered to life and chopped miniature wooden furniture, jewelry boxes, and glassware into pieces. Skater grabbed the door frame and pulled himself around and up the steps, driving his feet hard against them. The blackness inside the passage was complete until he triggered his infrared vision. Even that, though, was fogged over by the dust rapidly filling the tunnel from the action below.