"Get up on one of those rocks with the kid where you can watch both that 'mound' and the lock of their ship. Yes, I know it's more trouble that way—but don't, ah, do anything conclusive about the—uh—aforementioned, before we've corralled the rest! Much more useful while capable of inhaling. Hostage possibilities. Inducement to surrender!"
"Uh-huh," Nasal-voice said comprehendingly.
"Yes, sir!" added Peer.
There was another short pause.
"Might as well skip the circumlocutions," the deep voice continued. "Barely human! I'll send a couple of men through the ship and, if it's empty, I'll leave one of them in the forward lock where you can see him. That's just in case anyone slips past us and comes back. The rest of us will go over to the reservoir in the launch. If the entrance is where she says it is, we've got them bottled. If it looks right, we'll go in."
"That'll be only four of you," said Nasal-voice. "No; three—you're keeping one at the launch-guns, aren't you?"
"Yes, of course. Hey, little girl—how many are with Flauval?"
"Of us, you mean?" Peer asked.
"Of what else?" snarled Nasal-voice.
"Now don't get her so scared she can't talk!" the deep voice reproved. "That's right, little girl—how many of you?"