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1986-10-29
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1KB
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42 lines
HOMER NARR2-EH/Ref@5471
Hoskins heaved a sigh of relief when his
mass detectors told him they were over
land. The mountain now loomed on the
low-frequency radar. "Get up some
speed," he ordered. "I'd like to get as
high up the slopes as we can before we
have to walk."
That was not far, as it turned out. The
slopes were ice, and the propulsion
field, which functioned well on the
horizontal, couldn't get a grip for the
uphill struggle. Hoskins ordered the men
out.
The storm swirled around them,
threatening to sweep them off their
feet, but they hooked together and moved
up toward the entry port.
An hour's climb through jagged ice
clumps, slick blue ice, harsh rock
outcroppings and endless wind brought
them to the entry.
The door, oddly enough, was locked.
"They know we're coming," Denz observed.
"Yes, it would seem so," Hoskins
answered in a tone that might have been
sarcastic or might as easily have been
merely disappointed. He waved up his
assault programmer. "See if you can do
something about this door."
The programmer went to work. The rest of
the team sat down, huddled against the
bare rock beside the entry, to wait.