Chapter XI
DESPERATE MEASURES
Measured in distance and time that rough walk in the ponderous suits across the broken terrain of the asteroid was a short one, measured by the beating of his own heart, Dane thought it much too long. There was no sign of life by the air lock of the bubble—no move on the part of the men stationed there to come to their assistance.
"D'you suppose we're invisible?" Ali's disembodied voice clicked in the helmet earphones.
"Maybe we'll wish we were," Dane could not forego that return.
Rip was almost to the air lock door now. His massively suited arm was outstretched toward the control bar when the com-unit in all three helmets caught the same demand:
"Identify!" The crisp order had enough snap to warn them that an answer was the best policy.
"Shannon—A-A of the Polestar," Rip gave the required information. "We claim E rights—"
But would they get them? Dane wondered. There was a click loud in his ears. The metal door was yielding to Rip's hand. At least those on the inside had taken off the lock. Dane quickened pace to join his leader.