“We’re about half an hour away from your position,” Slim reported. “Maybe less-say twenty minutes. So stick with it, fellows! I’m pouring on all the speed I can get!”
REPELATRON RESCUE 109
Both boys noticed that Slim’s signal had come through weakly.
“Our power supply must be conking out,” Bud said in a cracking whisper.
“Either that, or the moisture in here is fouling up the set,” Tom replied.
The boys ceased talking, hoping to conserve their strength and their air supply in every way possible. Soon both Tom and Bud were breathing in hard, labored gasps.
The Challenger signaled them twice again during the next several minutes, but received only a feeble reply. On Slim’s third call, there was no response from the space kite.
Aboard the Challenger the copilot conjectured, “Maybe their radio failed.”
Slim’s face was grave. “Let’s hope it’s no worse than that.”
The huge spaceship, with its boxlike cabin suspended in a spherical framework of rails, was hurtling along at blinding speed. Slim gunned the repelatron units in a desperate all-out burst of power.
“There’s the kite!” a crewman yelled.
Tom’s craft had become visible on the Challenger’s radarscope. Soon it loomed into view dead ahead. As the rescuing ship drew nearer, the boys’ space-suited figures could be seen slumped limply inside.
110 COSMIC ASTRONAUTS
Slim prayed silently that Tom and Bud were still alive. Guiding the ship smoothly into orbit alongside the kite, he sent two crewmen in space suits out on the Challenger’s landing platform to attach towlines. The kite was quickly hauled into the hangar compartment.
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