how to operate the
spacesuit's rockets!"

"I don't either," Emmett admitted.

"It's simple." George carefully explained the operation of the rockets
in detail and ended by instructing them, "We'll get separated on the
way. But when we reach the ship, we'll try to meet at the air lock. It
resembles the air lock of an Earth ship."

* * * * *

Floating through space toward the enemy ship, Emmett felt overcome with
an absurd sensation of freedom. Completely surrounded by billions of
motionless, pin-point stars and securely hidden by the vast blackness of
space, the aliens and the problem of survival seemed dream-like and
unreal.

A sharp pain stabbed at his left arm and he heard a brief hissing sound.
Oxygen was escaping from his spacesuit. The sound abruptly stopped when
the suit automatically sealed the puncture. And yet the throbbing pain
remained and he felt the wetness of blood against his flesh, seeping
slowly down his leg.

_A meteor!_ People usually visualized meteors as tons of metal hurtling
through space. But there were small ones as well, and perhaps this one
had been no larger than a grain of sand. He dismissed it from his mind,
and after what seemed an eternity, his feet touched the hull of the
enemy ship. Quickly he activated the magnetic boots.

A distant figure gestured as George's voice came loudly over the
intercom system, "This way. Here's the air lock!"

_You should whisper_, he thought. _It would be more fitting._

He shuffled in the indicated direction. His legs were rubbery beneath
him and there was a growing tingling sensation in his left arm. It was
just barely possible that he was bleeding to death. And encased as he
was in the spacesuit, it would be impossible for him to treat the wound.

_If_ they reached the colony on Venus he would receive medical
attention, of course. But they must first overpower the ship's crew, and
it would take approximately two hours to reach the colony. Could he hold
out that long?

He didn't know.

George knelt and carefully examined the rectangular outline in the metal
beneath their feet. "It's only a sort of button," he said. "It could be
a device that opens the lock by means of a code sequence--or it could be
a signal to notify those inside to open the lock."

"What should we do?" Gloria asked nervously.

Instead of replying, George pushed the button firmly. The section of
hull beneath them instantly dropped several