The dome contained a
small airlock leading to a ladder that descended about 15 feet into the
asteroid. Zip asked two of St. George's men to locate bolts and go back
up to clamp their ship to the surface. Within minutes the alien ship
was fastened down tightly and all fourteen men were inside the supply
station.
"Food! Toothbrushes! Showers! Clean clothes!" shouted various voices as
the men scattered to look over the spartan facility.
"Food!" shouted Joe, and headed for the pantry where George St. George
was already standing.
"Relax, Starman!" said St. George, placing his hand on Joe's chest.
"You three men have worked without rest to get us here. Just sit down.
Let us show our gratitude by fixing up the best meal this larder can
make possible."
The three Starmen were only too ready to comply. They allowed their
tired bodies to sink slowly into the rest sofas, the minimal gravity
nestling them gently into the concave surface. The miners who were not
assisting in the preparation of the meal lay down on bunks in the
sleeping quarters.
"I don't know if I need sleep or food more," said Mark. He had been at
the navigation and communications stations almost without respite for
all of his waking hours-and he had slept little. Zip had relieved Joe
at the helm some of the time, but the trip had not been an easy one.
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