"Well, here's Repeater One. McCauley said to come here. What do we do now? I've air for fifteen minutes more."
Holmes tried to speak, but couldn't. There were clankings.
"Doggone you," Kent snarled shrilly, "you cheated on the air! You didn't split even! Cripes!"
Then he panted, and suddenly there was a hissing sound, and gasps. McCauley's hands were tightly clenched as the sounds came to him from both faraway space-suit microphones. But at the hissing sound he relaxed.
A little later Holmes' voice came, astonished.
"That was it! He said that the relay here was exactly like the relay at Repeater Two. It's a sledge, and it was brought here by two men—and it has air tanks that they breathed from while they traveled! Kent, you hooked me to the air. The pressure's way up! We can refill our suit tanks and the spare!"
Kent said waspishly:
"So I noticed. Get your tank full-up and let me have my share.... McCauley said to call him from here if we needed to. What say?"
"McCauley can go to blazes!" rumbled Holmes. "It's not two hours from here to the base. If we fill up on air, we can get there before sunset. To heck with McCauley!"
In the commanding officer's cubbyhole at Grimaldi Base, McCauley relaxed again in his chair. His expression went from strain to contentment. He reached over and flipped off the receiver.