And speaking of the guard, he seemed to be getting restless. Over several minutes, he glanced around, paced a bit, and scratched himself a few times. I hadn’t done anything, so I wasn’t sure what was—oh. Hydraulic pressure, leading to a call of nature. Heh. The guard had moseyed over to a nearby bush and was—holy moly, what was I doing color commentary for? The guard had moved away from the entrance! And he had his back to it. I ordered the fleas to unlock the door, and as quietly as I could, I pulled it and slipped in. A couple of my spiders scurried in behind me, but most of them were left outside, along with most of my fleas. I could wait for them to dig their way in, but while I was doing that, the guard’s shift could end and his replacement could come traipsing up the corridor. Ungood for sure.