human
There he is!
gpt
Put the brakes on this wagon!
human
Check!
gpt
I'm going outside to get Major Connel, sir, he said.
human
Do you think you'll be all right?
gpt
I'm going too!
human
You tell Astro?
gpt
Yeah. He's got Barret locked in the power-deck storeroom and he'll take over the control deck. Wonder if they have a jet boat aboard?
human
I doubt it. Not on a test flight.
gpt
We'll have to hurry,
human
Yes, replied Tom.
gpt
He probably doesn't have much oxygen.
human
There's another reason,
gpt
What?
human
Those projectiles. We're right back in the middle of them. Any one of them could wreck the ship.
gpt
I see what you mean, said Tom.
human
Guess it's up to Astro to keep dodging them.
gpt
Never thought I'd be out in space ducking hot projectiles to save old Blast-off Connel's hide.
human
Neither did I, said Tom.
gpt
But here we are.
human
See him, Roger?
gpt
Not yet,
human
I see him, called Astro from the control deck.
gpt
I got him spotted on the teleceiver. Go aft, about a thousand, maybe fifteen hundred yards. I'll direct you from there.
human
Right! snapped Roger.
gpt
And listen, you Venusian bonehead! Make it good. I don't like being a clay pigeon for this crazy shooting gallery out here!
human
Aw, damp your tubes and get to work, drawled Astro.
gpt
Honestly, Tom, did you ever hear him _not_ complain?