II
He inhaled deeply. The air was moist and sweet after the tainted stuff they'd been breathing for three years. He'd forgotten how sweet. It was almost intoxicating.
The ladder was lowered. Matt went over the side, riding it down. When it struck, he leaped off and scooped up a double-handful of the muddy earth.
There was a shout from above. Then everyone, staff and crew, came swarming down the ladder.
For a while they went a little mad, dancing and scooping up the blessed mud.
The director at last called a halt. "Hold on," he yelled above their laughing.
Matt was conscious suddenly of the cold rain. He was drenched to his hide, and he shivered. He glanced around, peering into the night.
As well as he could distinguish, they had come down in a valley. He could hear a stream purling on his left, and saw the dark slope of pines reared up behind the ship.
"It's a little after one in the morning, Earth time," the director called out. "There's nothing that we can do tonight...."
"I'd like to climb to the top of the hill and look around," Matt interrupted. "We might spot a light."