Outside, I could hear the roar of a thousand rocket engines tuning up,
and a shroud of smoke and fire blanketed the field.
"Two minutes!"
"Hey, Gramps," I said. "Put down that banjo and strap yourself into a
bunk. We're set to go--"
"It's a guitar," he told me. "A _gui_-tar. Okay, kid, plenty of time."
I stood up and helped Clair into her bunk, kissing her lightly on the
lips. "I'm a little scared," she said.
"Don't be silly. Nothing to be afraid of, honey." I was glad she
couldn't feel me trembling.
Gramps was next, and I saw to it that his straps were fastened
properly, then I sat down again in the pilot-chair, buckling a heavy
leather belt across my thighs.
"Thirty seconds!"
I remember wondering vaguely if the Karden could get us to the Belt in
one piece, and not hours behind every other ship. Then a shrill whistle
outside was going "beep-beep-beep!" and I pulled the firing lever back
all the way.
* * * * *