Instead, he heard an ominous cracking sound, a rumbling....
Off where the spongy ground joined the hard rock a crack appeared. It was small, but it grew. And it moved. It snaked along the ground, slowly, twisting, heading for the ship. Now it was half as wide as Johnny's body, and now it was wider.
Burt pushed Marcia away and attacked the lock with clumsy fingers. His hand trembled, but Marcia huddled against the side of the hull, sobbing, and he knew she could not have handled the dials in time.
Three around and then four over: damn it, there's the blue light, but he still needed the white and red. Five around and one over—ah, the white! Two around and six over—red, white, and blue!
He pushed Johnny and Joan in front of him, then he grabbed Marcia around the waist and hurled her inside. The crack was half as wide as the Pacemaker now, rumbling, churning—and growing.
He ran to the controls and he kicked the engine over. He felt the ship poise on the brink, as he had seen the Havelock do before it had plunged within a similar hole. He felt the ship totter, and then he fired the studs for all the aft rockets at once. The ship roared once and he was shoved back hard in his seat. Then they hurtled furiously sky-ward.
Below them now, the planetoid was a writhing, twisting mass, shooting pulpy tentacles miles into space, groping for them, seeking. But they were out of reach. Burt circled a few times, watching the stone globe which now was a living entity.
