Presently Tom revived enough to struggle to his feet. “Whew!” he gasped dizzily.
It was pitch dark in the narrow chasm, except for the faint glimmer of starlight above. Tom
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switched on his suit flashlight. The yellow glow revealed Bud’s prostrate figure a few yards away.
“Bud!” Tom called, groping his way toward his companion. “Bud, are you all right?”
There was no answer, but the copilot stirred painfully. Tom helped him to stand upright. Through Bud’s transparent helmet, Tom could see his lips moving, but no sound broke the eerie silence. Dismayed, Tom realized their radios must have been broken in the fall!
Bud also switched on his suit light. The two boys stared at each other helplessly.
“If we could only read lips!” Tom thought.
He gazed up at the sheer walls of the crevasse rising steeply on either side of them. Bud’s eyes followed his glance. Then Tom pointed upward and made climbing motions. Bud nodded in response. Each of them grabbed a handhold on the jagged rocky surface and began clambering upward.
“We’d have to be human flies to make it in these getups!” Bud muttered to himself desperately.
With painful slowness the boys advanced, inch by inch. But it soon became obvious that in their cumbersome space suits their efforts to ascend were hopeless. Again and again their boots or gauntlets would scrabble for a hold on some rocky outthrust, only to slip off or have it give way under pressure. By the time they had struggled upward a few yards, both were weary and aching in every muscle.
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