urry_, Guz!"

De Hooch didn't bother to answer Willows. He was short of breath as it
was. He knew, besides, that no answer was expected. He had known Willows
for years, and knew how he thought. It was Willows who had first tagged
de Hooch with that silly nickname, "Guzzle". Not because Peter was such
a heavy drinker--although he could hold it like a gentleman--but because
he had thought "Guzzle" de Hooch was so uproariously funny. "Nobody
likes a guzzle as well as de Hooch," he'd say, with an idiot grin. As a
result, everybody called Peter "Guz" now.

The head had vanished back into the control room of Reactor Two. De
Hooch kept on running, his breath rasping loudly in the confines of the
fishbowl helmet. Running four hundred yards isn't the easiest thing in
the world, even if a man is in good physical condition. There was less
weight to contend with, but the mass that had to be pushed along
remained the same. The notion that running on Luna was an effortless
breeze was one that only Earthhuggers clung to.

He ran into the control room and stopped, panting heavily. "What ...
happened?"

Sam Willows' normally handsome face looked drawn. "Something went wrong.
I don't know what. I was finishing up with Reactor One when I heard the
explosion. They are both"--he gestured toward the reactor--"both in
there."

"Still alive?"

"I think so. One of 'em, anyway. Take a look."

De Hooch went over to the periscope and put his eyes to the binoculars.
He could see two figures in heavy, dull-gray radiation-proof suits. They
were lying flat on the floor, and neither was moving. De Hooch said as
much.

"The one on the left was moving his arm--just a little," Willows said.
"I'll swear he was."

Something in the man's voice made de Hooch turn his head away from the
periscope's eyepieces. Willows' face was gray, and a thin film of greasy
perspiration reflected the light from the overhead plates. The man was
on the verge of panic.

"Calm down, Puss," de Hooch said gently. "Where's Quillan and Laynard?"

"They're in their rooms," Willows said in a tight voice. "Trapped. The
bulkheads have closed 'em off in A. No air in the corridor. We'll have
to dig 'em out. I called 'em both on the phone. They're all right, but
they're trapped."

"Did you call Base?"

"Yes. They haven't got a ship. They sent three moon-cats, though. They
ought to be here by morning."

De Hooch looked up at the chronometer on the wall. Oh one twelve,
Gre