Part 15 (2/2)

(”Good boy! No, don't get up; you're weak and dizzy and likely to fall. Start crawling. Count 'em. Three hundred ought to do it.”) I started crawling, counting.

”It's a long way, Oscar. You think we can make it?”

(”Of course we can! You think I want to be left out here?”) ”I'd be with you.”

(”Knock off the chatter. You'll make me lose count. Thirty-six . . . thirty-seven . . . thirty-eight-”) We crawled.

(”That's a hundred. Now we double it. Hundred one . . . hundred two . . . hundred three-”) ”I'm feeling better, Oscar. I think it's getting warmer.”

(”WHAT!”) ”I said I'm feeling a little warmer.”

(”You're not warmer, you blistering idiot! That's freeze-to-death you're feeling! Crawl faster! Work your chin valve. Get more air. Le' me hear that chin valve click!”) I was too tired to argue; I chinned the valve three or four times, felt a blast blistering my face.

(”I'm stepping up the stroke. Warmer indeed! Hund'd nine . . . hund'd ten . . . hun'leven . . . hun'twelve-pick it up!”) At two hundred I said I would just have to rest.

(”No, you don't!”) ”But I've got to. Just a little while.”

(”Like that, uh? You know what happens. What's Peewee goin' to do? She's in there, waiting. She's already scared because you're late. What's she goin' to do? Answer me!”) ”Uh . . . she's going to try to wear Tim's suit.”

(”Right! In case of duplicate answers the prize goes to the one postmarked first. How far will she get? You tell me.”) ”Uh ... to the mouth of the tunnel, I guess. Then the wind will get her.”

(”My opinion exactly. Then we'll have the whole family together. You, me, the Mother Thing, Peewee. Cozy. A family of stiffs.”) ”But-”

(”So start slugging, brother. Slug . . . slug . . . slug . . . slug . . . tw'und'd five . . . two'und'd six . . . tw'und'd sev'n'-”) I don't remember falling off. I don't even know what the ”snow” felt like. I just remember being glad that the dreadful counting was over and I could rest.

But Oscar wouldn't let me. (”Kip! Kip! Get up! Climb back on the straight and narrow.”) ”Go 'way.”

(”I can't go away. I wish I could. Right in front of you. Grab the edge and scramble up. It's only a little farther now.”) I managed to raise my head, saw the edge of the walkway in the light of my headlamp about two feet above my head. I sank back. ”It's too high,” I said listlessly. ”Oscar, I think we've had it.”

He snorted. (”So? Who was it, just the other day, cussed out a little bitty girl who was too tired to get up? 'Commander Comet,' wasn't it? Did I get the name right? The 'Scourge of the s.p.a.ceways' ... the no- good lazy sky tramp. 'Have s.p.a.ce Suit-Will Travel.' Before you go to sleep, Commander, can I have your autograph! I've never met a real live s.p.a.ce pirate before . . . one that goes around hijacking s.h.i.+ps and kidnapping little girls.”) ”That's not fair!”

(”Okay, okay, I know when I'm not wanted. But just one thing before I leave: she's got more guts in her little finger than you have in your whole body-you lying, fat, lazy swine! Good-bye. Don't wait up.”) ”Oscar! Don't leave me!”

(”Eh? You want help?”) ”Yes!”

(”Well, if it's too high to reach, grab your hammer and hook it over the edge. Pull yourself up.”) I blinked. Maybe it would work. I reached down, decided I had the hammer even though I couldn't feel it, got it loose. Using both hands I hooked it over the edge above me. I pulled.

That silly hammer broke just like the line. Tool steel-and it went to pieces as if it had been cast out of type slugs.

That made me mad. I heaved myself to a sitting position, got both elbows on the edge, and struggled and groaned and burst into fiery sweat -and rolled over onto the road surface.

(”That's my boy! Never mind counting, just crawl toward the light!”) The tunnel wavered in front of me. I couldn't get my breath, so I kicked the chin valve.

Nothing happened.

”Oscar! The chin valve is stuck!” I tried again.

Oscar was very slow in answering. (”No, pal, the valve isn't stuck. Your air hoses have frozen up. I guess that last batch wasn't as dry as it could have been.”) ”I haven't any air!”

Again he was slow. But he answered firmly, (”Yes, you have. You've got a whole suit full. Plenty for the few feet left.”) ”I'll never make it.”

(”A few feet, only. There's the Mother Thing, right ahead of you. Keep moving.”) I raised my head and, sure enough, there she was. I kept crawling, while she got bigger and bigger. Finally I said, ”Oscar . . . this is as far as I go.”

(”I'm afraid it is. I've let you down . . . but thanks for not leaving me outside there.”) ”You didn't let me down . . . you were swell. I just didn't quite make it.”

(”I guess we both didn't quite make it ... but we sure let 'em know that we tried! So long, partner.”) ”So long. 'Hasta la vista, amigo!” I managed to crawl two short steps and collapsed with my head near the Mother Thing's head.

She was smiling. (”h.e.l.lo, Kip my son.”) ”I didn't . . . quite make it, Mother Thing. I'm sorry.”

(”Oh, but you did make it!”) ”Huh?”

(”Between us, we've both made it.”) I thought about that for a long time. ”And Oscar.”

(”And Oscar, of course.”) ”And Peewee.”

(”And always Peewee. We've all made it. Now we can rest, dear.”) ”G'night . . . Mother Thing.”

It was a darn short rest. I was just closing my eyes, feeling warm and happy that the Mother Thing thought that I had done all right-when Peewee started shaking my shoulder. She touched helmets. ”Kip! Kip! Get up. Please get up.”

”Huh? Why?”

”Because I can't carry you! I tried, but I can't do it. You're just too big!”

I considered it. Of course she couldn't carry me-where did she get the silly notion that she could? I was twice her size. I'd carry her . . . just as soon as I caught my breath.

”Kip! Please get up.” She was crying now, blubbering.

”Why, sure, honey,” I said gently, ”if that's what you want.” I tried and had a clumsy bad time of it. She almost picked me up, she helped a lot. Once up, she steadied me.

”Turn around. Walk.”

She almost did carry me. She got her shoulders under my right arm and kept pus.h.i.+ng. Every time we came to one of those blown-out panels she either helped me step over, or simply pushed me through and helped me up again.

At last we were in the lock and she was bleeding air from inside to fill it. She had to let go of me and I sank down. She turned when the inner door opened, started to say something-then got my helmet off in a hurry.

I took a deep breath and got very dizzy and the lights dimmed.

She was looking at me. ”You all right now?”

”Me? Sure! Why shouldn't I be?”

”Let me help you inside.”

I couldn't see why, but she did help and I needed it. She sat me on the floor near the door with my back to the wall-I didn't want to lie down. ”Kip, I was so scared!”

”Why?” I couldn't see what she was worried about. Hadn't the Mother Thing said that we had all done all right?

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