Explore "The Time Armada" by Fox B. Holden on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Slowly, Doug straightened, descended the stairs with Dot's trembling body still in his arms. The boys stood motionless.
There was only the sound of Dot's quiet sobbing, and that of Doug's boots as they struck hollow sounds from the steel stair treads, moved heavily as though fitted to the legs of an awkward robot to scatter the shattered bits of the power-pack tubes and crush them as they came underfoot.