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Updated: May 27, 2025
"I don't know," replied Astro in a whisper. "I thought I saw something move inside the hangar." He pointed to a large window. "Sort of a shadow against the frosted glass." "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure." "I'll investigate. You get Tom and call Firehouse." "Right," replied Astro, and raced down the path, alongside the hangar. Grasping his rifle firmly, Roger inched toward a nearby door.
But we shall never get to her at this rate! 'Never, unless we adopt "the ugly rush," like the citizens who follow the Lord Mayor's Show. They talked, and inched towards the desired one, who, as she discoursed with a neighbour, seemed to be of those 'Female forms, whose gestures beam with mind, seen by the poet in his Vision of the Golden City of Islam. Their progress was continually checked.
Suited figures on the surface wrestled with its flexible exit-tube against the storm, fighting to couple it to the lock of the Richardson dome. The exit-tube moved rhythmically until the Scout Ball inched away, drawing it taut. Pumps whirred. The suited figures entered the forward lock of the Scout Ball. Inside, General Shorter divested himself of the helmet.
Before him, a door was ajar and he eased toward it. On tiptoe the curly-haired cadet inched around the edge of the door and glanced inside. He saw a Nationalist guard on his hands and knees loading empty shock rifles. Tom quickly stepped inside and jammed his gun in the man's back. "Freeze!" he said between his teeth. The trooper tensed, then relaxed, and slowly raised his hands.
"They're bringing out the ship. They must be ready to blast off!" Astro stopped his work momentarily and stared as the huge ship was inched out of the hangar, resting on her tail fins, her nose pointing skyward. "I'd sure like to be bucking the power deck on that baby," sighed Astro. "Yeah, and I'd give my eyeteeth to see that radar deck," said Roger.
The blaster would be no use here; it was too powerful, and would destroy the clothing that the man was wearing. He unfastened a strap from his belt and attached it to a stone to form a hand-loop, then, inched forward behind the lone herb-gatherer. When he was close enough, he straightened and rushed forward, swinging his improvised weapon. The man heard him and turned, too late.
He inched it down toward his knees, fearful each moment that a lurch of the ship might precipitate it to the floor with a crash. When his head could push no longer his knees grasped the end of the chest, and managed to pull it down. Tolto had never heard of the wrestling hold known as the scissors, but he applied it to that box.
As the crew of Hot Rod strove to get it into position to fire; and the computer on the wheel strove to precess the wheel to a position where firing would be fatal to the firer, it became a race between giant snails. But already the rim of the big wheel had inched slightly ahead in the race; and the main part of the hub was disappearing behind it.
So I swum down along the raft till I was most abreast the camp fire in the middle, then I crawled aboard and inched along and got in amongst some bundles of shingles on the weather side of the fire. There was thirteen men there they was the watch on deck of course. And a mighty rough-looking lot, too. They had a jug, and tin cups, and they kept the jug moving.
Though there were more than a thousand men searching the area, they could not rid themselves of a strange feeling of loneliness as they each walked forward into the mists of death. Strong and Walters inched their way down the street like blind men, feeling for each step with hesitant feet. "Are you sure we're heading in the right direction, Steve?" asked Walters. "Yes, Commander," replied Strong.
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