"Looks so," said Morrow.
"I don't like it," said Stacey.
"Why?"
"Looks too easy."
"Don't be so everlastingly suspicious," said Nora.
"Oh, I'm not the type to admire the denture of a gift horse," responded Stacey. "Not until later. So let's get going."
Paul opened the door. "This is it!" he snapped. "Run for it!"
"Wait a minute," objected Stacey. "Not straight. Head left, you two. We'll go right. Cut a large circle and don't run. Just walk as fast as you can and be as quiet as you can. It's as dark as the Devil's hip pocket out there, but sooner or later someone will realize that all is not well with the Boys at Home. Now!"
"Now!"
They separated. Blind-black outside compared to the lights in the hallways of the house, Paul and Nora picked their way carefully until their eyes became adjusted to the dark. Then they could see the dim lights of the buildings across the plain. They left their former home and swung wide, angling away from the line between the house and the ship. Paul paused once, listening, and heard a faint crackle from some distance; either Morrow or Stacey had stumbled over something.