His choice of a landing place was the flat top of a near-by building,
one which stood a little apart from its neighbors and, as Raf could
see, was not overlooked except by a ruined tower. He circled the
flitter. The machine had been specially designed to land and take off
in confined spaces, and he knew all there was possible to learn about
its handling on his home world. But he had never tried to bring it
down on a roof, and he was very sure that now he had no margin for
error left him, not with Hobart breathing impatiently beside him, his
hands moving as if, as a pilot of a spacer, he could well take over
the controls here.
Raf circled twice, eyeing the surface of the roof in search of any
break which could mean a crack-up at landing. And then, though he
refused to be hurried by the urgency of the men with him, he came in,
cutting speed, bringing them down with only a slight jar.