"What's the big idea, not letting me tell Mother about your new dinkus for landings and take-offs?" Jak railed.
"Aw, she wouldn't understand it, and it'd worry her for fear it wouldn't work." Jon was clearly uncomfortable about the praise he could not help seeing in his brother's eyes. "I'll tell Pop, when he wakes up. Come on, I'll race you into our suits."
The boys donned their spacesuits, and examined each other to make sure they were "tight." They saw to it that their guns and bandoliers were fully loaded; that they had with them what tools and other equipment they felt might be needed. Then they opened the lockdoors and went outside.
They started off in a predetermined direction, having made plans to go about five miles. Then they would swing in a circle around the ship. If they saw anything they thought exceptionally interesting, they would make short side trips, and if necessary, complete their circle on another day. In any event, they had promised their mother to be back by dark.
The first leg of their journey was completed without any excitement, although Jak was continually finding new plants he wanted to collect for future study.
"Nix, Owl, not this trip," Jon kept protesting. "You promised, remember?"
"Oh, all right, killjoy. But there's so much here I want to find out about."
"Yes, so much you couldn't even make a dent in it in a lifetime. Want us to leave you behind to do it?"
"You just try that, and I'll knock your teeth loose."
"You and what platoon of space marines?" Jon jeered good-naturedly, knowing that with his greater size and strength Jak could not make good his threat—even if he had really wanted to.