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Nor was there any question of power, for the Procyon's atomics did not drive the ship, but merely energized the "Chaytors" the Chaytor Effect engines that tapped the energy of the expanding universe itself. Thus, in less than six months, the Procyon had attained a velocity almost half that of light.
Shift beta to forty-four and gamma to two sixty-five." Rendezvous was made. Both lifecraft hung motionless relative to the Procyon's hulk. No other lifecraft had escaped. A conference was held. Weeks of work would be necessary before Deston and Jones could learn even approximately what the damage to the Procyon had been.
And the Valhalla was still bound on its long journey to Procyon. Nine years had passed, but yet another remained before the giant starship would touch down on a planet of Procyon's. But the Fitzgerald Contraction had telescoped those nine years into just a few months, for the people of the Valhalla. Steve Donnell was still twenty-six. And now Alan had caught him. The Contraction had evened out.
For one hour before the Procyon's departure from Earth and for three hours afterward, First Officer Carlyle Deston, Chief Electronicist, sat attentively at his board. He was five feet eight inches tall and weighed one hundred sixty-two pounds net. Just a little guy, as spacemen go.
What do you hear from the other ships?" "Procyon's at Grank; we haven't had any reports of any kind from there, which doesn't look so good. The Northern Lights is at Grank, too. The Oom Paid Kruger should have been at Bwork, in the east, when the gun went off. And the Jan Smuts and the Christiaan De Wett were both at Keegark; we can assume Orgzild has both of them." "All right.
"His story is that he is and always was the true and ever-loving friend of the Company; he acted to prevent quote certain disloyal elements unquote from harming the people and property of the Company. Procyon's on the way to Konkrook. I'm holding Northern Lights here and Northern Star at Skilk; where do you want them sent?" "Leave Northern Star at Skilk, for the time being.
No single survivor had ever been found; nor any piece of wreckage. And on the Great Wheel of Fate the Procyon's number came up.
Although attentive, he was not tense, even during the countdown. The only change was that at the word "Two" his right forefinger came to rest upon a red button and his eyes doubled their rate of scan. If anything in his department had gone wrong, the Procyon's departure would have been delayed.
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