"I can take the whole window port apart
from inside. How do you think they replace these things when they get
cracked?"
Hurriedly searching through the rubble, Tom finally produced a wrench
and handed it to Astro. In a half hour Astro had taken the whole section
down and had pushed the crystal outward. The air of the desert rushed
into the control room in a hot blast.
"Whew!" cried Roger. "It must be at least a hundred and twenty-five
degrees out there!"
"Come on. Let's take a look," said Tom. "And keep your fingers crossed!"
"Why?" asked Roger.
"That we can dig enough of the sand away from the ship to make it
recognizable from the air."
Following Tom's lead, Roger and Astro climbed through the open port and
out onto the sand.
"Well, blast my jets!" said Astro. "You can't even tell there was a
storm."
"You can't if you don't look at the ship," said Tom bitterly. "That was
the only thing around here of any size that would offer resistance to
the sand and make it pile up. And, spaceman, look at that pile!"
Astro and Roger turned to look at the spaceship. Instead of seeing the
ship, they saw a small mountain of sand, well over a hundred feet high.
They walked around it and soon discovered that the window port in the
control deck had been the only possible way out.
"Call it what you want," said Roger, "but I think it's just plain dumb
luck that we were able to get out!" He eyed the mound of sand.
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