Ted helped Jill off with her helmet. He was shocked to see that her face was feverish and her eyes strangely bright. She wandered away from the others and slumped tiredly on the divan.
“Don’t lie on that rubber cushion, dear!” Mrs. Kenton cried. “It’s still wet. What on earth has she got?” Mrs. Kenton asked the boys.
“It looks to me like she’s got bog fever,” Randy offered.
“How could she catch fever?” Mrs. Kenton asked.
“There’s a virus that comes from the sand bogs and sometimes gets through the air valve of space suits,” Randy said.
“I’d better call a doctor at headquarters right away!” Mrs. Kenton declared.
She went to the radiophone and put through the call. She was told that all the doctors were out on calls and that it might be an hour before one could come. However, when a nurse on duty in the Medical Center learned about Jill’s symptoms, she gave instructions for caring for the girl until the doctor could come.
As Mrs. Kenton switched off the phone, she said, “The nurse said that Jill should be put to bed and kept warm. Come on, Honey,” she added, helping Jill to her feet and leading her toward the guest room.
“Is the disease serious?” Ted asked Randy worriedly.
“It can be,” Randy answered soberly. “We’ll probably have to be quarantined,” he added.
“How long does bog fever last?” Ted asked.
“The crisis comes pretty quickly after the first attack,” Randy answered. “I remember, because a friend of mine had it. If they pass the crisis, they’re usually well in a few days.”
Ted was reluctant to ask the next question, but he felt he must know.
“Did your friend recover, Randy?”
Randy shook his head, and Ted felt a cold chill of dread run down his spine. He didn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Jill. Shehadto get well.
About twenty minutes later, Mrs. Kenton came back to the living room. Her face was drawn and worried.
“She’s sleeping fitfully and her head is burning up!” she told the boys. “Oh, why doesn’t that doctor come?”
With nothing else to do, the boys stared through the clear plastic of the side wall at the deepening afternoon. The purple sky was growing darker, and the stars were gleaming steadily brighter. On the horizon, where the miniature sun was setting, the sky was painted in gorgeous shades of red. Ted thought he had never seen a more beautiful sunset, but he could not appreciate it at this time.
Suddenly Ted spotted a strange yellow mass gliding close to the ground and apparently coming in the direction of the settlement.
“What’s that, Randy?” Ted asked. “Do you know?”
“We’re in for trouble!” Randy answered.
“What do you mean?” Ted asked, alarmed.
“It’s a dust storm blowing this way,” Randy said.
“I’m glad the house is well anchored to the ground,” Ted muttered. He had already learned in school that such storms were often fierce.
“It may be an awful blow,” Randy said. “It may keep the doctor from getting through to us.”
The whole landscape was blotted out.
The whole landscape was blotted out.
Once more Ted had that sinking feeling. He wished desperately that there were something he could do. But, against the powers of nature, he knew he was absolutely helpless. All he and Randy could do was wait and hope.
A few minutes later the dust storm struck with howling fury. The boys watched the sand spatter noisily against the house. The whole landscape was blotted out in a blinding, yellowish-red haze. Mrs. Kenton came running into the room, looking terrified. She had not been prepared for this latest trouble.
“How long will this terrible storm last?” she asked, when Randy explained what it was.
“Sometimes as long as an hour,” Randy replied.
Mrs. Kenton’s hands twisted in frenzy. “We can’t wait that long. We must have that doctor. Poor Jill is twisting and turning so much, I can’t even keep damp cloths on her forehead.”
“Why don’t we call headquarters again,” Ted suggested, “and see if the doctor will be able to come out in the storm.”
As Mrs. Kenton went into the hall to radiophone again, the boys heard the storm striking with renewed power. Fine, cutting sand whipped against the plastic walls with the sound of sleet, accompanied by an eerie roar.
Mrs. Kenton came back quickly. “There’s no sound at all over the phone!” she cried.
Ted instantly thought of the aerial on top of the house. He went to the center room and looked through the clear ceiling. His heart sank. The aerial was swinging loose by the single center pole.
“The storm has blown the antenna loose!” Ted told his mother. “We can’t even phone headquarters now, and they can’t reach us either.”
Mrs. Kenton left the room, moaning. They heard her go down the hall to Jill’s room. The only sound was the furious clatter of sand against the house and the groaning of the terrible wind. Ted’s eyes strained to detect some kind of break in that awful cloud of yellow dust that surrounded the house, hoping that the storm was nearing its end.
Suddenly Ted heard a weak sound outside, above the roar of the wind. “Yank!” he cried. “We forgot all about Yank! We’ve got to let him in!”
They ran to the front-door air lock. There they found the color bear clawing at the outer door. The dust covered him so thickly that he nearly blended completely with the yellowish background.
Ted flipped a switch opening the outer door. Yank scrambled quickly inside. Then, when the air pressure in the little outer compartment was equal to that in the house, Ted opened the inner door. Yank tumbled in in a flurry of scattering sand.
Ted thought the Martian animal was the most forlorn sight he had ever seen. His fur was dirty and matted, his eyes were bloodshot, and every step he took brought a cascade of sand down around his feet.
“He looks like he needs another shower,” Randy said.
“There’s nothing else we can do now,” Ted agreed. Besides, he figured the activity would take his mind off their troubles.
Mrs. Kenton was still with Jill. The boys marched Yank down the hallway to the bathroom. When Yank saw what was in store for him, he eagerly jumped into the shower basin. Ted turned on the water, and streams of dark-red liquid poured down Yank into the drain.
“He must have half the sand of Mars on him,” Ted commented.
Suddenly his mother came up to the door and looked in. “Jill’s getting worse!” she said. “Ted, you and Randy must go out after the doctor.”
Ted was not keen to venture out into the dust storm, but thoughts of his sister lying desperately ill quickly drove all hesitation from his mind. He and Randy climbed into their space suits, and as they approached the front-door air lock, Ted was relieved to find that he could begin to see through the thinning dust.
“It’ll be over in a few minutes now,” Randy said.
But if Ted expected any easy time of it outdoors, he was mistaken. The storm still had a lot of fight left in it. The wind struck them relentlessly, turning them around and blinding their gaze with whirling dust. They could not even thrust through it to the boat. Ted signaled to Randy that they would have to stand close to the house until the storm had subsided even more.
At last the wind died to gusts. The air was clearer now, and the stars were once again visible overhead.
“I think we can make it now,” Ted said.
They ran over to the boat and climbed in. As Ted dropped a pellet into the tank, Randy said, “Look at these scratches on the boat! That sand must cut like a file!”
They jetted off down the waterway, Ted pressing the accelerator pedal down to shove the boat along as fast as it could safely go. They whirled into the Main Canal and sped toward the science building where the doctors had their offices. Along the way, the boys could see that theirs wasn’t the only aerial that had been blown down. They could see space-suited figures on the individual houses working on the webs of wires and poles.
Some whee birds appeared out of nowhere and flew down to perch on the boat and serenade Ted and Randy with their strange chants. However, the boys were in no mood for them now, and presently the friendly birds flapped off as though they realized they were not wanted.
Before reaching the building, the boys saw a boat speeding right at them.
“Look out!” Randy warned. “He’s coming straight at us.”
But the boat pulled up just beside the craft occupied by Ted and Randy.
“Are you the Kenton family?” the single occupant asked over his radio.
“Yes, sir!” Ted answered quickly. “Are you the doctor?”
“Yes,” the man answered. “The storm has held me up. How’s your sister, Son?”
“She’s bad off, sir,” Ted answered. “That’s why I had to come for you.”
“Turn your boat around and don’t spare the horses, as they used to say,” the doctor said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Ted made the fastest trip yet along the waterway back home. True to his word, the doctor arrived right at his heels. The doctor jumped out of his boat at the house, grabbed up a large case, and hurried toward the air lock. The boys went ahead and opened the door for him.
When the doctor had met Mrs. Kenton inside, he asked to see the sick girl alone. The boys and Mrs. Kenton paced restlessly in the front room as they waited for the doctor to come out of Jill’s room. Finally, when Ted thought he could not stand the waiting any longer, the doctor came out. He was briskly shaking down a thermometer, and his face was bland.
“She’ll be a sick girl for a few days,” he said, “but she’ll be all right. I gave her a shot of some special serum we developed to combat bog fever. It was none too soon, either.”
There were tears of joy on Mrs. Kenton’s face, and Ted felt as though he could turn handsprings. Randy, too, looked vastly relieved. Although he was not a true member of the family, it seemed as though Ted and Jill were brother and sister to him, especially since he had no brother or sister of his own.
“I’m afraid all of you will have to be quarantined for a week,” the doctor went on.
“What’ll we ever find to do with ourselves staying in the house for a whole week?” Ted thought. Then he remembered the garden that had to be tended, that antenna that had to be repaired, and other mechanical duties that had to do with the running of the house. If they kept busy, the time would pass swiftly, he reasoned. The boys went up on the roof to try to repair the antenna, but there was such a tangle of wires they did not know where to start. The doctor said he would leave word at headquarters for a repairman to come out.
“It may be a day or so before he can get out here, though,” the doctor warned. “It looks as though half the aerials in the settlement were blown down.”
It was actually two days before a repairman came. By that time, Jill had passed her worst time, and she was able to sit up a little and see the boys.
Ted and Randy were amazed at the rapid growth of the plants in the garden. Already they were eighteen inches high. Ted thought he could almost see them growing before his eyes.
As soon as the radiomen had repaired the antenna, the boys sat down to watch the television program in progress. It was a newscast that showed in color the events going on all the way back on Earth and within the settlement as well. The huge five-by-four-foot screen was sharp and clear.
Suddenly the regular telecast was interrupted. A local announcer was switched in. He held a paper in his hand, and by the expression on his face, Ted knew he had something very important to say.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said, “we have just received word that several members of the long-lost expedition to Syrtis Major have been spotted and contacted by a routine surveying plane. That is all the information we can give you now, but stand by and we’ll keep you posted on developments.”
Randy had sprung to his feet, and Ted could see his body was tense as a coil of wire.
“Pops!” Randy burst out.
“Your father’s expedition!” Ted exclaimed at the same moment. Then before his hopes got too high, he recalled that the announcer had said that only some of the men had been found.
But Randy did not appear to be bothered by this. His face glowed with happiness. He was convinced his father was one of those who had been located.
An hour later, another bulletin was given: “It has been established that only six of the original thirty-five members of the ill-fated expedition are alive. Identity of the men has not yet been given us. Stand by for further news.”
Randy bit his lip in disappointment as the message was cut off. He and Ted remained by the set for another hour without moving, hoping any moment that more news would be given out. At last it came:
“Our remote TV facilities will carry you to the spot where the lost men were found,” the announcer said. There was a gray screen for several moments, and then the scene switched to the interior of a rocket plane.
“It’ll be just like our going along with them to the place!” Randy exclaimed happily.
Ted kept his fingers crossed for Randy. It would be a terrible shock to him if his father were not one of the survivors. The unhappy moment he had dreaded for so long might now be at hand. Their screen showed the swift trip from Lowell Harbor over red sands and lichen forests. At last the plane came in for landing in a wild, rocky region.
The man who met the TV men in the plane was the pilot who had first sighted the missing engineers. “Come with me,” the pilot said, “and I’ll show you who the survivors are and we’ll hear their story.”
Ted saw Randy get up and move close to the screen. He saw Randy’s toe beat a nervous tattoo against the floor as he waited. Mrs. Kenton had come into the room in the meantime, when she found what was going on. Even Jill could hardly be restrained from leaving her bed to come in and take part in the great discovery that meant so much to young Randy Matthews.
“The men survived by holing up in an underground cave, and they signaled the scouting plane,” the pilot explained, as he led the TV men over the rocky ground. “It was a landslide that broke up the expedition, destroying all means of transportation and communication. The six who lived through it gathered up all the spare oxygen tanks and food supplies. They had plenty along because the expedition was to have lasted three months. They carried the tanks underground where a hot spring kept them warm.”
When the entrance to the cave was reached, the pilot called inside, and six space-suited figures walked tiredly out. They were not recognizable in their space dress, for even their helmets were too dark to show their faces.
“Gentlemen,” the TV announcer said to the survivors, “I’m sure every television set, at the colony and on faraway Earth too, is tuned to this spot. Of course, the big question in all the people’s minds is which of the men who were lost are among you alive. Will each of you pass before our camera and give your name?”
Ted felt his nerves tighten as the men, one by one, faced the screen. Two, three, then four bearded men passed and gave their names. Randy’s father was not one of them. Two more to go. Just then the worst possible thing happened. The screen suddenly went gray.
The picture flashed on.
The picture flashed on.
Ted heard Randy groan. The seconds ticked by. Still no picture. Finally, after five minutes, the announcer said that picture service would be restored in a few more minutes. Ted could see the perspiration gleaming on Randy’s face, and his fingers were clenching and unclenching continuously.
“What a frightful thing for him to be going through!” Mrs. Kenton whispered to Ted. “I certainly hope and pray his father is one of those remaining two.”
The picture flashed on. The announcer spent a moment or two explaining the difficulty that had thrown the picture off; then he called the two remaining men. The fifth showed himself. In the close-up his smiling, grimy face was visible through his helmet.
“Is—that him?” Ted asked tremulously.
Randy’s head wagged slowly in the negative. Finally the last man walked up, and Randy gave a scream of joy and sprang over to the screen.
“My name is Robert Matthews,” spoke the bearded man. He smiled and waved into the screen. “Are you listening, Randy boy?”
Ted looked at Randy. His shoulders were hunched over and were shaking with quiet sobs. Ted could see tears of joy in his mother’s eyes. Then he realized there was a lump in his own throat.
Randy’s father was alive. To Ted, it was almost as though it were his own father who had been found.
Randy would have liked nothing better than to have been at Lowell Harbor to welcome his father, but the quarantine made that impossible. However, Randy left word for his father to phone him on arrival.
Hours after the sensational telecast, the radiophone finally buzzed. Randy ran to it, flipped a switch, and listened on the two-way microphone.
“Pops!” Randy exclaimed. “Yes, it’s me! How are you?” On and on the excited conversation went.
“Isn’t it wonderful, Mom?” Ted said to his mother.
“It certainly is!” she answered. “Your dad and I really believed Randy would never see his father alive again.”
Yank had been allowed into the house. He seemed to realize that this was a moment of good times, for he capered about like an animated ball of fur. He even tried to make noises into the mike himself, but Randy playfully pushed him off.
Feeling pretty good himself now, Ted thought that if Yank wanted action he’d give it to him. He cuffed the little animal gently along his head. Yank tore after him, catching him near the air lock. Down went the boy and color bear together. Yank growled menacingly but did not impress Ted with his mock ferocity. Yank got on top of Ted, and Ted called for help.
Just then Randy’s long conversation with his father ended, and he came over to join the fun. Then the three of them were scrambling and yelling together. Ted halted his play for a moment to look up and see Jill standing in the doorway, her face beaming as though she would like to join the fun. Mrs. Kenton looked around, and her face darkened.
“You’d better get back in that bed, young lady!” her mother threatened.
Jill squealed and ran off to bed. Ted saw that his mother was not really angry. She was smiling, and Ted knew she was glad to find that Jill was feeling so much better.
The rest of the day passed on the same high note of joy. Where several days ago, everything had been fear and gloom, now everything was rosy. The next day, after Randy had talked with his father again, he was impatient to get out and meet him. Ted, too, was beginning to feel the pinch of the quarantine.
The boys went out to take a look at the garden. The stems were high and full of broad leaves. It looked like a miniature jungle here. And in such a short time! Ted checked the atmosphere gauge that showed the percentage of oxygen to carbon dioxide in the greenhouse. The gas from the carbon dioxide tank had to be just so, or the plants would suffocate from an overabundance of oxygen.
When the boys returned to the living room, Mrs. Kenton said to them, “I have a surprise for you two. Turn your heads.”
They did so, and when she told them to look around they saw a fully dressed Jill standing there, her cheeks pink and healthy again. Ted hugged his sister as though she had been away a long time and was just getting back.
At last, the day that, it had seemed, would never arrive finally did come. Randy was up especially early that morning, saying that he wanted to visit his father before he went to school.
The children were in the living room awaiting breakfast.
“I’m sure they’ll let you off from school one more day to be with your father, Randy,” Mrs. Kenton called from the kitchen.
“Even if they do, I don’t want to lose any time seeing him,” Randy said.
Suddenly Jill pointed a shaky finger toward the front door. “L-look, there’s a man at the door?”
Ted turned around, startled. “I wonder who...” he began.
But Randy was not puzzled. He ran across the room and flipped the switch that controlled the air lock. A few minutes later a robust man in a space suit entered and pulled off his helmet. He had a rugged, kindly face which showed the effects of the terrible strain he had been under so long. But he was smiling.
“Pops!” Randy cried and threw his arms around him.
“Boy, what a squeeze you have!” Mr. Matthews grunted. “You’ve grown, Randy.”
When their prolonged greeting was over, Randy introduced his father to the Kentons. Ted’s hand was almost lost in the large, powerful grip of Mr. Matthews.
“You’re just in time for breakfast, Mr. Matthews,” Mrs. Kenton said.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a home-cooked meal,” the man answered wistfully. “I’d like to join you.”
As they were eating, Dr. Matthews heard the story of his son’s adoption by the Kentons. Then he said, “I can’t thank you folks enough for taking care of my boy just as if he were one of your own.”
“Pops!” Randy cried.
“Pops!” Randy cried.
“Randyhasbeen one of us,” Mrs. Kenton said warmly.
“What do you say about that?” his father asked. “Do you want to leave these nice people?”
Randy looked uncertain. It was a situation he had given little thought to before. “I don’t really like leaving them,” Randy said hesitantly. Then he seemed to have an idea. “I’ve got it, Dad! Why can’t you come and live here?”
Mr. Matthews laughed. “I’m afraid that’s carrying hospitality too far. No, we’ll build us a house of our own, as close by as we can. Until we get an allotment of housing material, we’ll get a room in headquarters.”
“There’s no use both of you living there,” Mrs. Kenton said. “Why not led Randy stay on here until your house is ready to move into?”
“Sure,” Ted put in. “Why can’t Randy do that?” He had been saddened at the thought of Randy leaving the household. It had seemed as though Randy was going to be with them always, for he had not believed that Randy’s father was ever coming back.
Randy thought this was a fine idea. Ted could see that he did not like parting with the Kentons any more than they did with him. Mr. Matthews was reluctant to take further advantage of the Kenton hospitality, but at last was talked into the proposition.
The children went along with Randy’s father back toward town, following along in the Kenton boat. Mr. Matthews said he’d arrange for Randy to have the day off from school so that the two of them could have a good visit.
The young Kentons were glad to be back in the thick of things. They found school particularly interesting that day, because a field trip was announced by Mr. Garland.
“Every year this class is given an exploring field trip over certain areas of the planet so that you can get a firsthand knowledge of Mars’s geography,” the instructor declared. “The trip is by plane and will last two days. You must have your parents’ consent, of course.”
That afternoon, as Ted and Jill left school, Ted said, “What do you think of that trip, Sis?”
“It sounds like fun!” she said. “I hope we can go.”
“I’d like to, too, but don’t forget Mom would be by herself.”
“I’d forgotten about that,” Jill said disappointedly. “Mother would tell us to go on, if we asked her, I know, but I still wouldn’t want to leave her. There are so many things that could happen.”
“We’ll just have to forget it then,” Ted said. “Maybe we can make it another time.”
The two kept a brooding silence, and Ted wondered if Jill was as disappointed as he was. When Randy found out that they had decided not to go, he said he did not care to go either.
That night Ted had a dream. In it he was exploring on the great barren desert with Jill and Randy but they wore no helmets and it seemed as though they could hardly get their breath. They gasped and choked, and the dream grew into a nightmare of terror. Suddenly, Ted woke. He sat up in bed in a cold sweat, feeling a strange lightheadedness. His breath was coming hard into his lungs.
It had not only been a dream. Something had happened to the atmosphere in the house.
“Randy, wake up!”
Ted was jostling his bedmate. Randy opened sleepy eyes. He seemed to be unaffected by the reduced air pressure in the room. Ted remembered that people vary in their reaction to this.
But when Ted told him of the danger, Randy bounced out of bed with no further prompting. Ted switched on a light, and just as he was reading the air-pressure gauge on the wall, he heard a shrill whistle in the house. It was the air alarm that had gone off automatically. Ted could see that the gauge read dangerously low.
If he and Randy and the others did not get into space suits in a hurry they would suffer serious consequences, one of which could be an attack of the “bends.” At worst, they would lose consciousness and die of anoxia—oxygen starvation.
Even before Ted could leave the room to rouse his mother and sister, both were standing at the boys’ door.
“We’ve got to get on space suits right away!” Ted told them. “It looks like all the air pressure in the house is leaking out!”
They went immediately to the closet and began dragging out space dress in a mad flurry of fear. They pulled on the suits and helmets with haste and inflated the airtight outfits with fresh, pressurized oxygen from the small tanks on their backs.
“What do you think has happened to the air drum in the basement?” Mrs. Kenton asked her son over her helmet radio.
“I don’t know, but Randy and I can go down there and see,” Ted answered.
The boys went downstairs, made a light, and walked over to the giant metal tank recessed in one of the walls. Checking the gauges on the tank, Ted turned to Randy with a frown.
“There’s nothing wrong with this,” Ted said.
“Then where is the trouble?” Randy asked.
“There must be a leak somewhere in the house,” Ted said. “We’ve got to find out.”
The boys went upstairs, and Ted told his mother and sister that all of them should spread out and search the entire house for a leak. There were emergency sealers on hand to plug such a leak when it was found. The sealers were only temporary, but they would last until a full repair could be made by a repairman.
Each of them took a room and worked toward the middle of the house in their search, all lights having been turned on to give maximum illumination. The job was no easy one. Even the slightest crack anywhere would be sufficient to cause the loss of pressure; it was just like a tire tube with a tiny puncture. Ted was the first to finish his assigned area. He had found nothing. Presently Randy was through, then Mrs. Kenton, then Jill. No one had found a leak anywhere, and the entire house had been covered.
“We must have missed it somewhere!” Ted said. “We’ve wasted a whole hour!”
“The spare cartridges your father told us to have filled!” Randy suddenly exclaimed. “We didn’t do it!”
“We forgot to in all the excitement after he left!” Ted groaned.
“What’ll we do?” Mrs. Kenton asked, horrified. “In another hour or so, we’ll have used up the air in our suits!”
“Can’t we refill our suit cartridges from the air drum downstairs?” Jill asked.
Ted shook his head. “It’s not built that way.”
“Then we must phone for help right away,” Mrs. Kenton said and rushed off to the radiophone.
In a few moments she was back. “They’ll send someone from town with spare cartridges right away,” she said, “but the man said we couldn’t get a repairman until morning to fix the leak. We’ll have to stay in our space suits if we don’t find the leak.”
“Then let’s look for it again,” Ted suggested.
Once more they spread out all over the house, but this time they changed areas, so that if a mistake had been made before there was less chance of repeating it this time. They renewed their search, and it was not until all were through, again without having found the leak, that they realized that another hour had passed and the man with the spare cartridges had not shown up.
“The gauge in my helmet shows I’ve got only ten minutes of air left!” Jill said.
The others checked their gauges. All showed about ten minutes’ supply remaining. And there was no guarantee that the spare cartridges would arrive in that time.
Just as Mrs. Kenton was going to the radiophone to call the air-supply center again, the phone buzzed and she answered it. After listening a moment, she turned to the children with a white face. “The man’s boat developed some trouble on the way. He says he can’t get here for fifteen minutes.”
“That’ll be too late!” Jill cried.
Mrs. Kenton relayed this information and then said, “He wants to know if we have any neighbors close by we can borrow from.”
“I know it’ll take us more than ten minutes to get there and back!” Ted answered, recalling the goodly distance to their closest neighbor.
Mrs. Kenton reported this and then, after listening for several seconds, she finally hung up. “He says that he’ll call back to headquarters and get an emergency truck here as quickly as possible. But he can’t be certain that it will get here in time either.”
Jill began sobbing. Ted could see his mother’s lips trembling, but she was trying to be brave. Mrs. Kenton hugged Jill to her, trying to calm her. Ted saw Randy fidgeting nervously. His own stomach felt queasy, and waves of terror went through him as he thought of the consequences of running out of air.
“Come on, Ted,” Randy said finally to his friend, going from the hall into the living room. “We’ve just got to find that leak. If we can find it and plug it, the house pressure will rise to normal in a couple of minutes. I remember our own place doing that once before!”
“But we’ve gone over the whole place twice!” Ted argued. “There’s no hope!”
“Either we’ve passed the leak without seeing it,” Randy went on, “or the leak is in a spot that we didn’t look at.”
“But there isn’t any place we didn’t look!” Ted said. “Of course, there are some places we couldn’t get to, like....”
They both thought of it at the same time. Both boys’ eyes shifted to the drainage hole in the center of the plastic floor. Here was one spot they had not been able to check. There was a grillwork molded into the plastic that was not easily removable.
“Suppose it is the drain hole, though,” Randy said. “How can we find out?”
“I’ve got it,” Ted answered. “We’ll plug up the whole thing with a sealer, then check the room gauge to see if the pressure builds up.”
A rubberoid sealing patch was taken out of its case and applied over the hole. They flattened it out tightly to assist the adhesive to cling fast in place. Then all four of them went over to the wall to watch the pressure gauge.
A minute passed, and the needle failed to move even the tiniest bit. If this did not work, they knew they would surely be lost, because from where they stood, they could see outside for quite a distance, and still no one was coming.
Over his radio, Ted heard the nervous intake of breath from the others. He knew his hurried breathing must sound the same to them. Actually, fear was hastening their doom because the more scared they were the more oxygen they used up.
Ted stole a look at his helmet gauge. Only three minutes of air remained! His eyes turned to the wall gauge again. He wished he could put out his hand and push it along toward normal. How desperately he wished for it to move!
Ted thought he noticed a flicker of the needle. He blinked his eyes. Yes, it had moved! The others had seen it too.
“It moved!” cried Jill, almost hysterically.
“It certainly did!” her mother burst out. “I saw it!”
The needle continued to climb toward normal. Ted had nothing to say. He was so filled with relief that he was speechless for the moment.
They were all so concerned over the snaillike movement of that all-important needle that they paid no attention to the last few dwindling draughts of air in their suits. Ted was the first to realize that his tank was empty. He began feeling that same lightheadedness he had experienced in his room.
“Our suits,” he cried out. “Pull them off! The room is just about normal!”
He unclipped his own helmet, then pulled it off and drank in precious gulps of fresh air. The others followed suit. Soon the needle was vertical, indicating that normal pressure and air supply had been restored.
It was five minutes before a light came swiftly across the desert, moving in their direction. They heard the pop of an exhaust a moment later as a big-wheeled truck pulled up to a roaring stop outside.
Ted knew it must be the arrival of the emergency cartridges. But they had been five minutes late. A shudder shook him as he realized what a close call this had been. Had they not found the leak when they did, none of them in the house would now be alive to greet the men.
The next afternoon, when Ted, Jill, and Randy arrived home from school, Mrs. Kenton told them that the repairmen had taken care of the leak in the drain. It seemed that the hole had been partially stopped up so that the water had collected and frozen in it, causing the pipe to crack.
Jill had been impatient to talk ever since she had gotten in the house. Now her chance had come. “Mother, you know what Mr. Garland wants us to do?” she asked eagerly.
Mrs. Kenton smiled. “What does he want you to do?” she asked.
“He wants us to bring Yank to school for a demonstration lesson in Martian zoology,” Ted broke in.
Jill’s face clouded over with disappointment. “I wanted to tell her,” she muttered.
“Sorry!” Ted said. “I didn’t know it was a secret.”
Jill slapped at him playfully, but Ted ducked in time.
“You little clowns stop performing and get ready for supper,” Mrs. Kenton said. “We’re eating early because I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise!” Jill echoed. “What is it?”
Her mother smiled secretly but did not answer. Jill ran off to her room and the boys went to theirs. When the children had dressed and washed, they seated themselves at the dining-room table. Mrs. Kenton brought in a large platter of real roast beef.
“This is the surprise!” Jill said.
“If it isn’t, I’ll settle for it!” Ted put in.
Beef was a rarity on Martian tables. It was brought in only occasionally on the rocket supply ships. Most meat was of the dehydrated and cube variety that took less space.
“No, this is not the surprise I was talking about,” Mrs. Kenton said, “although it was to me when the supply boat drove up this morning with special rations.”
“Do you mean there is still another?” Jill asked.
Her mother nodded and went on. “The beef took only a few minutes to roast in the electronic oven. I remember my grandmother making so much of a pressure cooker. She probably would never have believed there would be an oven of the future that cooked in even less time than the pressure cooker and without any heat whatsoever.”
When the main course of the meal was over and apple pie was brought in, the children were sure this was the surprise Mrs. Kenton had promised. She said the supply boat had brought the fresh apples with the meat. But even the treat of apple pie was not the special surprise.
When supper was over Mrs. Kenton conducted the children into the living room and had them gather around a recording machine owned by their father. Mrs. Kenton set a spool of wire rotating and told them to listen.
“Hello, kids!” came a voice.
“Father!” Jill exclaimed.
They listened to a message addressed especially to them. When it was over, Mrs. Kenton explained that their father had called by remote broadcast from his distant work during the day. Then he had had her make a special wire recording for them so that they could hear it later. Mrs. Kenton told them this was the surprise. The children admitted that this was an even greater one than the beef and the apple pie.
“I thought Father sounded sort of sad or disappointed,” Jill commented.
“You were right, dear,” Mrs. Kenton replied. “Their work hasn’t gone along as well as they expected. They had a small landslide that buried the best of their diggings, which will take larger machinery than they’ve got to unearth. On top of that, the tracks they thought would prove to be a clue to the disappearing Martians aren’t human at all but belong to a group of animals they have already classified.”