"What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Kramer walked to the port. "I see we're still moving in a
straight line." He picked up the microphone. "We can instruct the
brain orally, through this." He blew against the microphone
experimentally.
"Go on," Winter said.
"Bring the ship around half-right," Kramer said. "Decrease speed."
They waited. Time passed. Gross looked at Kramer. "No change.
Nothing."
"Wait."
Slowly, the ship was beginning to turn. The turbines missed, reducing
their steady beat. The ship was taking up its new course, adjusting
itself. Nearby some space debris rushed past, incinerating in the
blasts of the turbine jets.
"So far so good," Gross said.
They began to breathe more easily. The invisible pilot had taken
control smoothly, calmly. The ship was in good hands. Kramer spoke a
few more words into the microphone, and they swung again. Now they
were moving back the way they had come, toward the moon.
"Let's see what he does when we enter the moon's pull," Kramer said.
"He was a good mathematician, the old man. He could handle any kind of
problem."
The ship veered, turning away from the moon. The great eaten-away
globe fell behind them.