Ron wasted a moment to lean weakly against the wall. Suddenly he saw that the ship was rising again, the air of this room swiftly escaping through the shattered port. Tarnuff was calling:
"Oruk! I said full power!"
Ron leaped to an iron locker, wrenched it open and saw a pair of space-suits. Quickly he donned one, and clamped the helmet down just as the utter cold of space swept into the room. He pressed the oxygen-tank release and breathed gratefully as air came flowing into the helmet. Then he stepped to the bank of fuel levers and pulled them all down. The spacer leaped forward, leaving Ceres far behind as triple blasts of fire streamed from the huge tubes.
Pulling Oruk's huge body after him, Ron stepped quickly into the interior of the ship and stood a moment, listening. Not a sound came from Tarnuff, far forward in the control room. Ron dragged Oruk's body to the central airlock, and gave it a decent burial in space. Not until then did he divest himself of the cumbersome space-suit. He examined the atom pistol and saw there were still five or six charges in the firing chamber. Then he moved forward, opened the control room door silently and stood just within the threshold.
Tarnuff was hunched over the calculation table, his back to the door. Once or twice he reached out and moved a directional-finder infinitesimally to agree with the chart. Ron watched silently, a grim smile on his lips. Not until Tarnuff straightened up from his task did Ron speak:
"For the second time, Tarnuff—hello."
The Martian whirled around in the seat, saw Ron with the pistol levelled.
"You!" he exclaimed, starting to spring up but sinking down again. "So—you broke out, eh? That clumsy fool, Oruk, wait'll I get my hands on him." His face darkened.
Ron laughed aloud. "You'll have a hard time doing that. Your strong-arm pal is a thousand miles behind us in space by this time. Yes," he answered the other's questioning eyes, "I blasted a hole through him." He gestured to the Martian's belt. "I'll take that pistol now; I asked for it a little while ago, you remember. First stand up, then toss it to me—careful!"
Tarnuff obeyed, sullenly. Ron caught the pistol and jammed it in his belt.