"But what good would that do us, if we couldn't get back?" Dire foreboding showed in her glorious eyes.
"Lots of things not tried yet, girl, and we'll try them all. First, we get away. Second, we try to get in touch with Norman Brandon...."
"How? No known radio will carry half that far."
"No, but I think that a radio as yet unknown may be able to—and there is a bare possibility that I'll be able to communicate."
"Oh wonderful—that lifts a frightful load off my mind," she breathed.
"But just a minute—I said I'd come clean with you, and I will. The odds are all against us, no matter what we do. If that unknown radio won't work—and it probably won't—there are several other things we can try, but they're all pretty slim chances. Even if we get away, it'll probably be about the same thing as though you were to be marooned on a desert island without any tools, and with your rescue depending upon your ability to build a high-powered radio station with which to call to a mainland for help. However, if we don't try to get away, our only alternative is letting them know we're here, and joining our friends in captivity."
"And then what?"
"You know as much as I do. Imprisonment and restraint, certain; death, possible; return to Earth, almost certainly impossible—life as guests, highly improbable."
"I'm with you, Steve, all the way."
"Well, it's time to spring off—we've both been awake better than fifty hours. Personally, I'm all in, and you're so near dead that you're a physical wreck. We'll get us a bite of supper and turn in."