"Good work, Mom, but get back in. I'm lifting ship."
He dashed through the inner doorway and into the control room. He threw the switch and Star Rover shuddered as its tubes roared into life. Jon punched on the intercom visiplate that scanned the interior of the lock, and saw his mother pulling Jak into the ship, then closing the outer door. Quickly Jon put the ship into a slow cruising orbit and switched on the auto-pilot. Remembering the open doors and the bitter outside cold, he glanced to see that the automatic heaters were taking care of the inside temperature, then ran back toward the lock.
There he found his brother desperately trying to warm their mother's unsuited body, now growing blue from that terrible cold.
"Help me carry her into bed." Jak rose and grasped her arms, but Jon pushed him aside. Stooping, he picked her up bodily. He ran, staggering a bit, with her into the bunkroom. Jak was right behind, and pulled some extra blankets from a drawer. Then, while he was piling covers about her, Jon dashed into the galley.
He drew hot water from the tap and quickly made a cupful of instant tea, then ran back with it to the bunkroom.
Some minutes later they saw with satisfaction that their mother's color was growing more natural, and her body tremors were slowing from the combined warmth of the extra blankets and hot drink. Only then did the boys stop to help each other out of their suits.
"Thanks for the help, Mother, but don't you know enough to wear a suit in weather as cold as this?" Jak's worry made his voice sharp.
"Yes, who's always fussing about us being careful?" Jon added. "Then pull a stunt like this."
Their mother looked up at them, and the old impish grin they had seen so seldom of late came onto her face.
"You've got me, Chums," she drawled. "From now on I reckon I'll keep my big mouth shut."