He and Crane whirlwinded through refinery and undersurface tubes to the hangar. Got there just as the inner seal was opening. They crouched in the shadow of a local ship. A space-suited figure parked the signalling instrument and yanked off its flexglass helmet. Gates, Peterson, too, removed his helmet.
"Now for the other side," rasped the super, diving toward one of the smooth-hulled local ships. "This the one?"
"Yes. She's all set."
"Good." Peterson climbed through the entrance port.
Both men were inside and the port closed behind them.
"Come on, Crane," whispered the engineer.
They took the ship that had hidden them in its shadows. Bonwitt knew these little skimmers. Their control was simple, their gravity propulsion just the ticket here where the down-pull was only a sixth of Terra's.
"Damn!" growled Bill. "They've five minutes' start. We have to wait till they're through the lock."
Crane said confidently: "We'll snatch 'em."
The other ship taxied to the airlock and was quickly inside. The inner door swung home. The wait seemed interminable.