“Kind of makes you homesick, doesn’t it?” Rock said a little wistfully.
They went over to one of the meteorite holes and knelt down.
The bright fire leaped like a hot bar from Rock’s cutting torch, reddening the metal of the hull almost immediately.
“How long is this going to take?” Johnny asked worriedly. “I want to get back inside. I don’t trust these dilapidated safety lines!”
“I’m beginning to regret I brought you fellows along on this thing,” Rock said thoughtfully. “Kalmus got me so excited about the expedition that I guess I didn’t really consider the risk we were taking by venturing into space on our own. There are so many things that could go wrong.”
“We didn’t have to come,” Shep encouraged him. “Frankly, I’d have gone anywhere just to get away from the station. I’ve been miserable ever since we flunked out. Just a few trick questions and—WHAM—there were three years gone to waste!”
“Maybe they won’t be wasted if our reward is the finding of the Northern Cross,” Rock pointed out.
He found that he could work better by taking his feet off the hull and “hanging” face down over it, with Shep holding on to his safety line to prevent the blast of the torch from driving him outward. Johnny was busy holding the flux in position.
Suddenly the force of the blast caused Rock’s worn safety line to snap and sent him hurtling outward from the hull of the Dog Star!
Rock heard his own name blasting into his ears as the anguished voice of Shep called to him. Then he saw his friend leap upward with clutching futile hands. Shep’s body jerked to the end of his own line, and then the reaction sent him slamming back onto the hull.