They reached one of the gates. The Martian was waiting. Curt stumbled over another Guard, but this one was dead. A tiny bak-glass needle protruded from his throat.
"We had some trouble too," Rikert explained.
Curt wondered which of them had the needle-gun, but he said nothing. When they had donned the oxygen-helmets, Curt produced a triggered electronic key.
"I managed to smuggle this. It's the only way we'll make it out of here! Don't worry about the alarms, just stay close to me. I have a plan."
Once in the exit lock, Curt had a moment of foreboding as he watched the huge inner doors close behind them. Again he applied the electronic key. The outer doors opened. They stepped into the unending lava waste of Mercury's nightside.
No sound reached them now. But Curt knew that already, in the Prison Dome behind them, the alarm was being given. He hugged the outer crystyte wall, hurrying along it away from the exit. The others sped after him. Rikert clicked on his speaker.
"Emmons, what the hell! This is crazy!"
"Is it?" Curt didn't stop his half running pace. "You two agreed I was to handle this! They won't think to look for us so close!"
They stopped at last, huddling against the wall. A half mile behind them the lock was opening again. Two of the surface-cars, on caterpillar treads, blasted out and away. Searchlights slashed the ragged terrain.
"They won't spend too much time," Curt said. "They figure we're dead men already." Never yet had a prisoner succeeded in reaching the Mercurian cities, hundreds of miles away on the twilight-strip. Curt's face went grim as he thought of their chances. They weren't trying to reach a city! Their destination was the little mountain-range somewhere on the nightside.