VI
Lonny Higgens got up slowly, then glanced lazily toward the control instruments, where the depth indicator had dipped down noticeably.
"That's all very well in due time," he said, "but we're still under the ledge, and not out of danger by any means. If we don't shove from under it we'll land back in the same shape."
"Get over to those controls then," ordered Raeburn.
Lonny grinned and went to the familiar seat. The craft was making larger circles as it descended, indicating that his guess must have been correct, that they were in a pocket, and that the pocket was broadening. Somewhere at the bottom of that pocket was a tunnel opening upon the outer ocean and it was up to him to find that opening—blindfold. If they could only keep descending until the vessel entered the channel their main problem would be solved. But if the pressure generated from the explosion was dissipated too suddenly, his mud-ship would ascend into the trap and stay forever there on the muddy ocean floor.
He felt a lurch. The ship had paused and was sinking no longer. This then, was the limit. It would not go low enough. He saw the horror in Raeburn's eyes.
They would die from starvation here. The gun in Raeburn's hands would be merciful, if it relieved them from the more hideous death that was certain to come.
The hull shuddered, slipped against a rocky outer substance that seemed to give way suddenly. He felt the relaxation of the outer barrier through the controls, knew that the propellers were driving it out and into the true bed of the Uranusian ocean. The needle indicator paused uncertainly, started to rise. By the expression on Raeburn's face he knew that the other had not guessed that their trap was behind them.
It was his chance. Lonny's hands moved swiftly on the controls. A surge of power sent the rear-drive mud-propellers spinning. Too much power. The ship tilted swiftly and Raeburn lost his balance. The man at the controls left them in a flash.