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At one moment he entertained fantasies of going on into the Lhari worlds, returning victorious with the secret of their fueling location, or of the star-drive itself. At another, he could not wait to be free of it all. He longed for the society of his own people, yet ached to think that this voyage between the stars must end so soon.
Then he realized it was the fueling crew dressed in protective clothing, swathed like strange cocoons in plastic that would keep their vulnerable human skins from the harm of corrosive liquid and fumes. Gee-Gee led him to the blockhouse, and the walk across the barren plain cleared the mists from Rick's head.
At the moment of firing, the cables would drop off. After that, Pegasus would be on its own. It was after dawn when the two emerged from the final check. The fueling crews were already at work. The loud-speaker on the crane emitted, "The time is zero minus twenty-five." Gee-Gee departed for the blockhouse. Rick started after him, then as he cleared the gate he saw Scotty.
We can talk things over and start for Florida from here." "He'll go," said Mr. Swift a few minutes later, turning away from the telephone with a smile. "Said he'll be tickled to get back in harness." "Thanks a million, Dad! You've saved the day!" The following morning the boys hurried out to the Swift private airport to oversee the fueling of the huge plane Tom had decided to take.
Vorongil strode through the door, his banded cloak sweeping behind him, and took the control couch. "Ready from fueling room, sir." "Position," Vorongil snapped. Bart heard himself reading off a string of figures in Lhari. His voice sounded perfectly calm. "Communication." "Clear channels from Pylon Dispatch, sir." It was old Rugel's voice.
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