"I'm not kidding."
"I know you're not, kid. You're just not thinking straight at the moment. You wouldn't be here if you were the type that could actually commit suicide, when it came right down to the fact."
"We're dead already."
"Then how do you expect to kill me?"
"It will be fun trying, Marsh."
It finally hit me that this was asinine, childish, and getting nowhere in a hurry. "Hell, kid," I said. "We've still got an engine in the 'dozer. It can be done. Maybe not neatly, but it can be done."
"Sure," she sneered, "sure it can be done. The 'dozer must have almost half the power of this hulk. We'll get there all right. We'll get there about the time the people upstairs pile up on the landing strip that isn't there. Then we can use the 'dozer to give them a good, Christian burial.
"Hell, Marsh, there's no sense trying to do it that way. That hole can't be very big. If we take the mercury out of the 'dozer and add what we can find lying around on the sand, and then pour it back in and weld the hole shut, we'll be all right. We'll get there a day or two later, but that won't be nearly as bad as if we try to tow with the 'dozer. Then we can swap mercury again and use the 'dozer. Couldn't be any simpler than that."
Like a fool, I tried to be logical: "How long do you think that weld would hold, kid? And then where would we be?"
"Right where we are now, only maybe a few miles closer. We haven't got anything to lose, and we've got everything to gain."