"But what—won't be pretty?"
"We'll have to enter those ships. You won't like what's inside."
"Say, how will we get in? We don't have blasters or weapons of any kind."
"Your suit rockets," Ralph said. "You swing around and blast with your suit rockets. A porthole should be better than an airlock if it's big enough to climb through. You won't have any trouble."
"But you still haven't told me what—"
"Inside the ships. People. They'll all be dead. If they didn't lose their air so far, they'll lose it when we go in. Either way, of course, they'll be dead. They've all been dead for years, with no food. But without air—"
"What are you stopping for?" Diane said. "Please go on."
"A body, without air. Fifteen pounds of pressure per square inch on the inside, and zero on the outside. It isn't pretty. It bloats."
"My God, Ralph."
"I'm sorry, kid. Maybe you want to stay back here and I'll look."