"These aren't ... like those ... back there." Jon had now seen that these crystals did not always grow in pyramidal shape.
"No, they grow ... new crystals ... wherever needed." Jak had been concentrating on the tendrils, or chains of crystals that were reaching, always reaching, toward the lockdoor, while Jon had been trying to break the bases of the pyramids from which these arms sprang.
Although the crystals were still fairly easy to break—especially the tentacles, which were only a thin string—new ones replaced them so swiftly, and their numbers increased so constantly, that it seemed almost a losing battle.
"These're growing lots faster than the others." Jon gritted his teeth as he now tried crushing the bases with his heavy metallic boots, hoping thus to make it harder for the crystal-beings to reach the door.
For minutes the two boys fought in desperation; then Jon grunted in disgust at his thoughtlessness, and yanked out his flame-gun. "Never thought of this," he yelled as he trained it on the crystal-beings. The terrifically hot flame washed off them in coruscating showers—but did no damage.
"Try bullets," Jak unlimbered his gun from his back, and started firing it into the base of the crystals nearest the lockdoor.
The heavy bullets shattered the crystals easily, and soon the boys could begin to see that they were clearing the way.
"You keep firing while I open the door and climb in," Jon yelled. "Then you climb in while I'm going to the control room and I'll lift ship."
"Right," Jak replied and fired even faster as Jon touched the outer mechanism-stud that opened the lock.
Hardly had it begun opening, however, than they heard the sound of another gun being fired through the opening. They looked up in surprise and saw it was their mother, shooting a shotgun. Jon scrambled up into the lock.