"Like--" began Roger, "like father--like son!" He blurted the words out
bitterly.
"Like who?" asked Astro.
"Like my father," said Roger in a hard voice. He got up and walked
unsteadily over to the oxygen bottle and kicked it. "Empty!" he said
with a harsh laugh. "Empty and we only have one more bottle. Empty as my
head the day I got into this space-happy outfit!"
"You going to start that again!" growled Astro. "I thought you had grown
out of your childish bellyaching about the Academy." Astro eyed the
blond cadet with a cold eye. "And now, just because you're in a tough
spot, you start whining again!"
"Knock it off, Astro," snapped Tom. "Come on. Let's give this hatch
another try. I think it gave a little on that last push."
"Never-say-die Corbett!" snarled Roger. "Let's give it the old try for
dear old Space Academy!"
Tom whirled around and stood face to face with Manning.
"I think maybe Astro's right, Roger," he said coldly. "I think you're a
foul ball, a space-gassing hot-shot that can't take it when the chips
are down!"
"That's right," said Roger coldly. "I'm just what you say! Go ahead,
push against that hatch until your insides drop out and see if you can
open it!" He paused and looked directly at Tom. "If that sand has
penetrated inside the ship far enough and heavily enough to jam that
hatch, you can imagine what is on top, outside! A mountain of sand! And
we're buried under it with about eight hours of oxygen left!"
Tom and Astro were silent, thinking about the truth in Roger's words.
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