Around the edges of each fused quartz spaceport was something like a rime of frost. It spread as they watched, spiderweb feelers reaching out across the circular panes. The faint starlight clouded and infinitely tiny points of radiance formed patterns within the crystalline surface.
"I'm going to open the airlock. Check your space suits."
One of the spaceports burst suddenly. Quartz-crystals showered into space. Air shrieked through the shattered port, freezing as it contacted the intense cold. Clouds of frost flecks formed and were instantly dispersed.
With the release of pressure, the airlock door came open easily. "There's a grey smudge down there," Merrill screamed, balancing precariously in the outer doorway. "Could that be Hidalgo?"
Norman was giving orders in a crisp, level tone. "Get the liquid-air tanks over-side. Failles, you take care of the casualties. Three of you should be enough. Harald, your job is to get the portable helioflash there safely. Merrill and the rest of you try to maneuver the air tanks down to Hidalgo. Use your jet cartridges sparingly, men, but—get there."
A shriek of terror came from Failles at the magnascope.
"The forward rocket tubes are fusing! They'll blow any time!"
"Abandon ship!"
In orderly fashion, the men lined up and went through the airlock. Norman went last.
Norman closed his eyes and shoved hard as he made the leap into space. The night seemed to open and swallow him. Impetus of his shove carried him away from the hurtling liner.