“Yes, it’s me.” His voice was squeaky.
“Where are you?” echoed down the corridor.
“I’m not going with you! Go on without me!”
“What?” Zimbardo’s voice had a note of complete incredulity in it. “Why not? Hurry up, Gene! We have to go! I don’t want Space Command on my tail!”
“I’m not going!” Gene shouted. He turned and fled. He sped down the corridor as fast as he could go, came to its end, turned the corner, and kept going. In less than a minute he was many turns and twists away from the main level. He switched on his light, put it on its lowest setting, and slowed down to a walk. “He won’t wait for me! He won’t look for me! He’ll want to go! Soon he’ll be gone and I’ll be safe!” These thoughts came through Gene’s mind almost like a flow of clear water.
He came to a storeroom, pushed the door open, and flashed his light around. The room was crammed with stacks of boxes and various other items. Seeing there was no one else inside, he shut the door, crawled under a cabinet, and turned off his light.
After a short while, he felt the floor tremble slightly. He knew that a spaceship had lifted off. It was followed quickly by five others. “The smugglers are gone,” he thought. “Just one more now. If I hear one more, I’ll know that he’s gone.” He waited, desperately hoping he wouldn’t hear the sound of the door opening.
After they left Gene, the smugglers Kimball, Lorry, and Jenner quickly gathered together their men and supplies and headed for the airlock to the launching pad. There were thirty-seven men altogether. All had their spacesuits on and most of them carried lights.
“How are we going to get out of here?” asked one of the men as they approached the airlock. “The airlock won’t open. Nothing’s working.”
“Portable power pack,” said Kimball. He took a small box from another man, set it down by the airlock, and in seconds had established a makeshift connection. The airlock opened. In that fashion, the men boarded their ships without delay.