Carefully, the Carefree edged closer so that it could latch on. The big circular space ship dwarfed the tiny taxi so greatly that it seemed like David and Goliath.
Garry and Patch heard a soft bump as the Carefree coupled onto the side of their craft on which the door was located. Garry knew now that the ships were joined as one.
Garry looked at Patch, and Patch looked at Garry. They knew all they had to do now was open the air locks between the ships. But they hesitated as if there were still some doubt in their minds as to the friendliness of those in the other space ship.
There came a rap on their air-lock door. Once again Garry looked at Patch, and Patch looked at Garry. Then, after another few moments of hesitation, Garry shrugged and clicked over to the door.
“We may as well open up,” he said. “Whether or not they’re friendly, they’ve certainly got the upper hand.”
Garry pressed the button that controlled the outer door of the air lock. Then he pressed another that opened the inner door.
Garry and Patch looked through the double air locks into the face of a man who wore a small, neat white beard. He appeared to be in his early sixties, and he was clinging to a webbing of ropes that completely covered the walls of a giant tube or tunnel.
“Hello,” the man said, with a smile.
“Hello,” Garry and Patch replied together. And they smiled too, because they were very glad that it was an earthman who faced them.
“I must say I didn’t expect to find a couple of boys alone in here,” the man went on. “What’s happened to the adults with you? You didn’t heave them out the waste hatch, did you?” The elderly man laughed.