Cave-In!

Bernice fought her way to her knees. She tried to ignore the shrieking that scraped at her nerves long enough to orient herself, but it was nearly impossible. Her pressure suit's radio lent the awful sounds a distortion that deprived them of gender or any trace of identity.

The only light Bernice could see was the amber reflected glow from the instrument display in her helmet. She gritted her teeth, forcing her sluggish senses to focus on essentials and ignore the shrill agony nearby. Pressure okay. Oxygen about six hours. Power a little longer, but that would hardly matter.

She was in no immediate danger. She could afford time now for other things, specifically locating her injured comrade.

With gloved hands, she fumbled at her belt for the emergency aid kit there even as she used the chin switch inside her helmet to activate her radio homing device and track the source of the signal that still assaulted her ears. Just above her helmet's transparent faceplate, a glowing compass rose appeared in pale green with a dim red needle superimposed on the holographic image. Below it appeared the range in meters. Twenty degrees to her left, six meters. She advanced with care, feeling with her outstretched

hands, until her right hand met another suit helmet.

Bernice felt over the body in the darkness and determined that the suit was still holding pressure, but from the hips down, her companion was buried beneath tons of lunar rock. Even at one sixth gravity, this was not good. The agonized screaming continued, making it hard for her concentrate in the utter darkness.

"Christ," she muttered. "Shut up. Just please shut up." She felt around in the aid kit until her fingers found an emergency ampoule of morphine, then jabbed it hard against the suited shoulder under her hands. It was, thank God, perfectly possible to inject drugs through a pressure suit such a tiny leak had little or no effect on the suit's ability to hold pressure.

It took many minutes for the screaming to stop. Bernice hardly moved during that time. She felt as though she were clinging to sanity by her toenails. But, eventually, the shrieks faded to moans and whimpers, then died away altogether. Bernice sagged against the rock wall next to her and tried to collect the shreds of her composure.

With her radio frequency clear, she now heard another voice, plaintively asking of the darkness, "Can anybody read me?"

Bernice keyed her transmitter. "I can hear you, Lisa. Are you hurt?"

"No. I don't think so. I've got pressure."

"That's a start," Bernice admitted with more dry humor than she intended. "I've got somebody here who's hurt, and I don't want to lose them in the dark. Can you home on me?"

"I . . . think so."

"On second thought, don't take a chance on falling. Feel around and see if any of the lamps is near you. Let's get some light on this mess and see where we stand."

"Okay. It might take a second."

"Take your time," Bernice told her. "I think we may have a lot of it."

A few moments passed in silence, then a light flared so brightly that Bernice had to close her eyes until the glare shielding in her helmet darkened a little. Lisa Andrews scrambled the few feet necessary to kneel beside her shift boss, one of the huge halogen emergency lanterns dangling from her suit glove.

When Bernice opened her eyes again, she bent low to ascertain the identity of the injured miner. She cursed in a hoarse whisper, then looked up to meet Lisa's questioning gaze.