Shep was trying manfully to be silent, but every now and then an involuntary sob of pain escaped his lips. They could hear Mumbly Pegg murmuring to himself, in his own peculiar incessant manner.
Now Spooner was getting closer. He was only about fifteen feet away, and, as if following some telepathic message, he continued approaching the youths.
“We’re done for,” Rock thought, with despair. “There’s nothing to keep him from finding us.”
Rock lowered himself still flatter, until the sharp edges of lunar stone pressed dangerously into his inflated suit. Spooner still climbed. Another couple of feet and he would be looking right down on them. They heard the sucking of his tired breath and choking wheezes as if he couldn’t take another step.
“Tony!” Rock heard him call weakly. “I can’t go any higher! Besides, I can see the top and nobody’s up here! I’ve got to come down!”
“Come on down then, you weakling!” Kalmus grated. “What a bunch of saps I brought along with me!”
“I can see the top too,” came Pegg’s voice from another part of the formation. “There’s nobody up here, Tony.”
“I guess you guys were right after all,” Kalmus finally conceded.
It seemed a terribly long time before the men got to the ground and disappeared into the ship. Rock gave them time to remove their space gear before daring to speak over his radio.
“Boy, that’s the closest call we’ll ever have!” Shep said.