He speculated as to whether
any of the latter had been converted to molten metal by the exhausts of
the Queen's descent.
Like the team they had come to be the four active members of the crew
went into action. Ali and Weeks were waiting by an inner hatch, Medic
Hovan with them. The Engineer-apprentice was bulky in a space suit, and
two more of the unwieldy body coverings waited beside him for Rip and
Dane. With fingers which were inclined to act like thumbs they were
sealed into what would provide some protection against any blaster or
sleep ray. Then with Hovan, conspicuously wearing no such armor, they
climbed into one of the ship's crawlers.
Weeks activated the outer hatch and the crane lines plucked the small
vehicle out of the Queen, swinging it dizzily down to the blast scored
apron.
"Make for the tower--" Rip's voice was thin in the helmet coms.
Dane at the controls of the crawler pulled on as Ali cast off the lines
which anchored them to the spacer.
Through the bubble helmet he could see the frenzied activity in the
aroused port. An ant hill into which some idle investigator had thrust a
stick and given it a turn or two was nothing compared with Terraport
after the unorthodox arrival of the Solar Queen.
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