Capt. Lawler and Lt. Chandler took the land car to Base Gagarin. The
Soviet base was situated some ten miles toward sunset at the bottom of
a natural fold in the surface. The route was moderately direct to the
tip of the gently rolling ridge. At that point, the best pathway angled
left and made an S-shaped descent to the basin. It was a one-way trip
of approximately thirty exhausting minutes.
Major Winship, with his deficient reefer, remained behind. Capt.
Wilkins stayed for company.
"I want a cigarette in the worst way," Capt. Wilkins said.
"So do I, Larry. Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours. Unless
something else goes wrong."
"As long as they'll loan us the calking compound," Capt. Wilkins said.
"Yeah, yeah," Major Winship said.
"Let's eat."
"You got any concentrate? I'm empty."
"I'll load you," Capt. Wilkins volunteered wearily.
It was an awkward operation that took several minutes. Capt. Wilkins
cursed twice during the operation. "I'd hate to live in this thing for
any period."
"I think these suits are one thing we've got over the Russians," Major
Winship said. "I don't see how they can manipulate those bulky pieces
of junk around."
They ate.
"Really horrible stuff."
"Nutritious."
After the meal, Major Winship said reflectively, "Now I'd like a cup of
hot tea. I'm cooled off."