Mays was transfixed by the dust and particulate ice dancing in sympathy with his drilling: it seemed a cloud six inches deep that never quite touched the ground.
Rebbo's custom spacesuit entered his field of view at a dead run. Ten feet tall, Rebbo running full-out towards the ship was a sight to behold. Mays shut off the drill, but the dust and ice kept dancing on their own. With the noise gone, he could hear a low rumble and Rebbo yelling into the comms, "Time to go!"
Rebbo had won the bet: the moon was geologically active after all.