Without any preliminaries, Kit Barnard's order sent the Good Company hurtling spaceward. Astro had just enough time to throw himself into an acceleration chair before the ship shot away from the Deimos spaceport toward the wreckage of the Space Lance.
"Braking rockets!" roared Kit. "Hit them hard, Sid."
The ship bucked under the force of the counter-acceleration, and the veteran spaceman fought to keep her under control. He snapped out another order. "Cut all rockets!"
The ship was suddenly quiet, hanging motionless in space in the middle of the still-twisting wreckage. The huge bank of atomic motors, the largest single unit on the ship, had already begun to swing around the small moon Deimos in an orbit, while other shattered remains of the once sleek ship began a slow circle around the motors themselves.
Astro was struggling into a space suit when Sid and Kit joined him in the air lock. Quickly the three spacemen clamped their space helmets closed and adjusted the oxygen nozzles. Then, after testing their suit intercoms, they closed the inner-portal air lock, reduced the air pressure, and opened the thick pluglike outer portal. They stared out at the gruesome spectacle of torn hull plates, twisted spars, and broken pieces of equipment floating gently in the velvet space, outlined against the reddish hue of the planet Mars.
"Astro! Kit!" shouted Sid through the suit intercom. "Look, there's Sticoon! Over there near that tube." Following Sid's pointing finger, Astro and Kit turned toward an exhaust tube that had been ripped in half by the explosion. The Martian spaceman's body floated next to it, limp and broken. Astro shuddered. If Sticoon was dead, then there was little hope for Tom. The big Venusian fought back tears.
Maneuvering themselves away from the ship with the aid of the small jet packs strapped to their shoulders, they reached the dead spaceman. Sid carried him back to the ship while Astro and Kit remained to search the wreckage for Tom.
By now, three small jet boats and two rocket scouts had blasted off from Deimos, bringing emergency rescue equipment. More than a dozen men poured out of the ships and joined in the search. The work was carried on in silence. No one spoke.
Astro and Kit worked side by side, pushing their way gently through the twisting mass that was once a proud spaceship, to the heart of the spiraling wreckage, down toward the bank of atomic motors that was attracting all the lesser pieces. Suddenly Astro paled. He gripped the veteran's arm and gestured toward a large section of the ship on the other side of the motors that they had not seen before.
"By the stars," Kit gasped, "it's the air lock! All in one piece!"