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Challoner and his team removed their jacks from the cable connecting the main team, and then split off. Stevenson was familiar with Challoner’s team, having served with some of them on previous assignments, but Miller he did not know. All he knew was the younger man troubled him. Even in his atmosphere suit it was clear Miller was twitchy. Once again Stevenson wondered at the wisdom of bringing such a man on a mission like this.

He looked up as soon as he felt it; it was as if the atmosphere suit had picked up the vibration that shuddered its way through the low gravity of Luna. Slowly, but most definitely surely, the Sovereign began to move away. The second team did not appear to notice, slipping out of sight behind a large piece of the Annabelle which had been torn off the mainframe during the crash impact. Bedford looked up.

“What the deuce?” he rumbled.

“Sir,” Stevenson said, “where are they going?”

“To investigate that glow, I suspect,” Bedford said, his tone severe. His brows knitted together, and pointed.

Stevenson looked, and sure enough, although somewhat hazy, a greenish glow could be seen over the tip of the crater’s lip. “But, sir, we only have less than an hour of air left.”

“Indeed, Mister Stevenson,” Bedford responded. For a moment he watched the Sovereign, his expression dark. Abruptly he snapped out of whatever had besieged him and reasserted his usual commanding presence. “I suggest we proceed with haste. I suspect there are oxygen supplies in the Annabelle, unless the Russians or the natives stripped the ship after it crashed.”

A reassuring thought, Stevenson considered. He looked to Miller, and offered a smile. The younger rating was perspiring badly. Somehow Stevenson doubted it was because of the heat generated by his enclosed body. Sighing inwardly, and wondering why he had to get stuck with such a sap, Stevenson led the way once again, hoping Bedford was right about the oxygen supplies, while the lieutenant took up the rear.

Stevenson lifted his carbine, nudging its nose through the rent first. Nothing, not even a hint of disturbance. Carefully he stepped through the rent and found himself in the greenhouse, cast in shadow by the Earthlight seeping through the hole in the hull. Plants of all kinds filled the area. Once having sat in their cradles, providing the oxygen needed throughout the small flyer, they lay scattered across the metal grating that served as the deck. His booted foot crunched the dirt underneath, shattering the stems of a rubber plant. One more dead plant would make no difference now, with the tears in the hull any oxygen the ship had would have long since vented out.

He stepped deeper into the greenhouse, almost feeling the nervous breath of Miller, which was very unlikely since both of them were contained by atmosphere suits. Stevenson stopped abruptly.

He had definitely felt something on the back of his neck. He twisted his head, trying to get a look at the back of his helmet, for a glimpse of whatever it was, but he could not see.

He hooked his carbine over his shoulder and reached for the bolts securing his helmet.

“Stevenson! What do you think you are doing, man?”

Stevenson blinked, and his eyes widened at the sight of his gloved fingers that were about to unbolt the helmet, exposing himself to the vacuum. He moved his hand away slowly and turned to Bedford.

“Sorry, sir, I thought I felt…”

“Pull yourself together, Stevenson,” Bedford snapped. “You have received vacuum training, you are fully aware that the oxygenated air, and the claustrophobic conditions of an atmosphere suit, can play havoc with your reasoning.”

Stevenson looked to Miller, and was struck by the sheer dread in his eyes. He had to be an example for the younger man, otherwise Miller would crack. Stevenson nodded sharply. “Yes, sir!” He turned back to the shadows ahead and took hold of the carbine again, feeling a little more reassured by the weight of the gun in his hands.

He continued on, a small part of his mind telling him that he had not imagined