"Not yet, you ain't," rejoined the mocking voice. "And you forgot something else, too, I'll bet."
"What?"
"The daily radio report to Base, Joe. Remember?" The voice faded, chuckling grimly.
For a moment Berne felt panic gripping at him, swinging him wildly through space. He was dizzy with it. The daily report! If SS-114 did not come through, Base would start wondering.
"Forget it," he said. "They won't worry for awhile. Maybe reception is bad."
"Sure," the other agreed readily. "For a little while, Joe. But if forty-eight hours pass and they don't hear from us, you know damned well they'll have a cruiser out here fast, investigating. The Service likes us, Joe. They don't want to lose us."
Berne knew that what Hervey said was true.
"You'll be dead by then," he assured Hervey.
The soft, hated laugh echoed in his helmet. "Will I, Joe?"