"Sure, everybody knows that. Every spaceman, I mean."
"Good. It is time for me to withdraw to my patrol monitor in space and make a radio report. Will you guide me to the rocket? There may be danger."
"I'm not afraid," Joseph said. "Come on, I know a short cut."
Wellesley slung his space kit over his shoulder and followed, with his hand on Joseph's collar. They went out into the night air which smelled fresh and clean after the daub-hut, and revived him a little.
At first he walked easily, for the ground was level, but after a minute or two the growth became heavy underfoot, causing him to stumble, and reeds were whipping against his face.
Presently they halted.
"Why have we stopped?" Wellesley asked.
"Here we are," Joseph said.
"We couldn't have gotten there in such a short time. Not even by a short cut."
"Put your hand out before you," Joseph commanded. "You'll see. I guess we can blast off any time." There was a sound of feet, scrambling up a steel ladder. A moment later he could hear Joseph's voice from inside, echoing hollowly.