"No, they grow ... new crystals ... wherever needed." Jak had been concentrating on the tendrils, or chains of crystals that were reaching, always reaching, toward the lockdoor, while Jon had been trying to break the bases of the pyramids from which these arms sprang. Although the crystals were still fairly easy to break--especially the tentacles, which were only a thin string--new ones replaced them so swiftly, and their numbers increased so constantly, that it seemed almost a losing battle. "These're growing lots faster than the others." Jon gritted his teeth as he now tried crushing the bases with his heavy metallic boots, hoping thus to make it harder for the crystal-beings to reach the door. For minutes the two boys fought in desperation; then Jon grunted in disgust at his thoughtlessness, and yanked out his flame-gun. "Never thought of this," he yelled as he trained it on the crystal-beings. The terrifically hot flame washed off them in coruscating showers--but did no damage. "Try bullets," Jak unlimbered his gun from his back, and started firing it into the base of the crystals nearest the lockdoor. The heavy bullets shattered the crystals easily, and soon the boys could begin to see that they were clearing the way. "You keep firing while I open the door and climb in," Jon yelled. "Then you climb in while I'm going to the control room and I'll lift ship." "Right," Jak replied and fired even faster as Jon touched the outer mechanism-stud that opened the lock. Hardly had it begun opening, however, than they heard the sound of another gun being fired through the opening. They looked up in surprise and saw it was their mother, shooting a shotgun. Jon scrambled up into the lock. "Good work, Mom, but get back in. I'm lifting ship." He dashed through the inner doorway and into the control room. He threw the switch and _Star Rover_ shuddered as its tubes roared into life. Jon punched on the intercom visiplate that scanned the interior of the lock, and saw his mother pulling Jak into the ship, then closing the outer door. Quickly Jon put the ship into a slow cruising orbit and switched on the auto-pilot. Remembering the open doors and the bitter outside cold, he glanced to see that the automatic heaters were taking care of the inside temperature, then ran back toward the lock. There he found his brother desperately trying to warm their mother's unsuited body, now growing blue from that terrible cold. "Help me carry her into bed." Jak rose and grasped her arms, but Jon pushed him aside. Stooping, he picked her up bodily. He ran, staggering a bit, with her into the bunkroom. Jak was right behind, and pulled some extra blankets from a drawer. Then, while he was piling covers about her, Jon dashed into the galley. He drew hot water from the tap and quickly made a cupful of instant tea, then ran back with it to the bunkroom.