"Shut up!" threatened the beady-eyed Martian. "The first sound of alarm will be your last!" Coughing quietly, he stepped aside to let the woman pass and she moved up the aisle like a robot. Green eyes straight ahead, she did not even glance at Ricker as she passed him.
Ricker realized in open space their scheme would be absurd but here, with the pull of Neptune on their side, they'd fall away in the darkness before the pilots knew what had happened.
The Martian turned quickly as he passed, kept the gun on them. "Open the lock and get ready," he told the woman. She threw the lever on a safety door, entered the boat and reached for the switch to slide the boat's door shut after the Martian was in.
Both doors close simultaneously, thought Ricker; the boat drops when the doors close.
The Martian backed slowly through the door like a great dark crawfish. For an instant his pistol was out of sight.
Ricker sprang from his seat like a panther, dived head first as the doors slid home.
The pistol roared.
But the flash of the gun was an instant behind the hand that knocked it aside. It clattered to the hull of the boat as Ricker bowled the man to the floor.
Both were on their feet like cats. The Martian leaped for the pistol. The woman flattened against the wall.
Clang!