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Updated: June 11, 2025
In five minutes the band had disappeared into the jungle in the opposite direction and the district was cleared; and by that time Hawk Carse was again in his space-suit, out of the control room and busy at the mechanism of one of the great ship-sized port-locks in the dome, having left behind him both Ban and Friday to guard Dr. Ku.
Also, having the metal may save us months of time in mining it." He found the projectors, repaired or cut out the damaged accumulator cells, and reconnected them through the controls of the lifeboat. He moved into the "engine-room" the airtanks, stores, and equipment from all the other fragments which, by means of a space-suit, he could reach without too much difficulty.
There was a screaming hiss from the valves, the atmosphere in that walled-off space became dense, and mechanics attacked with their power drills the door of the projector room. It opened, and four husky orderlies rapidly but gently encased the long body of the Vorkul in the space-suit built especially to receive it.
"Put on your propulsive space-suit. Hurry. Then here." "Right!" Carse ran over to where he had left his suit and rapidly got inside. As he did so, he said: "Eliot, there's fast work to be done while I'm gone with Ban. You must take your assistants and Dr. Ku up to the asteroid in the air-car and transfer down here all the equipment Dr. Ku says he'll need.
It happened that Carse saw him do it as the adventurer jumped out of the Scorpion again and with frantic speed slipped into the space-suit he had left waiting. Friday stood straight up, a hundred feet from the enemy a great bloated monster in his padded suit and charged. Leithgow and the Hawk heard, by their suit helmet-radios, his battle yell of defiance, but the coolies did not.
He donned a space-suit, filled a looped belt with tools, picked up a portable power-drill, and stepped into the tiny air-lock.
They did not come close to him to venture within fifty feet of that slow moving spot of scintillating brilliance, even in a space-suit, meant death but, poised around him in space, they watched with shuddering, incredulous amazement, the monstrous human being in whose veins ran molten water instead of blood; whose body was already so fiercely hot that it could exist unharmed while working practically without protection, upon liquefied metal!
Though he was not in it now, for days he had worn the harsh, grating metal and fabric of a space-suit, and its marks were left on him.
We've got a hell of a thing coming along now just because he wouldn't make the socially acceptable response to having a rich wife and no brains. He rebelled. So mankind will start moving to the stars!" "You still believe it?" Cochrane grimaced. "Yesterday morning I sweated blood in a space-suit out in the crater beyond Jones' laboratory. He tried his trick.
You fellows might break one out and shunt it onto this circuit while Dol Kenor is hunting up something for us to look at. "Hi, old Infra-Eyes!" he went on, as the Venerian scientist waddled into the room in his bulging space-suit. "We've got something here that's right down your alley. Want to see what you can see?" "Ah, a beautiful scene!" exclaimed Dol Kenor, after one glance into the plate.
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