Robert's voice sounded far off as he replied, "We are approaching the
speed of light."
"Make it go faster!" she cried. "Faster! Faster!"
She looked out the ports again; looked back behind them--and saw shining
specks of glittering blackness falling away to melt into the sootiness
of space. She shuddered, and knew without asking that these were stars
dropping behind at a rate greater than light speed.
"Now how fast are we going?" she asked. She was sure that her voice was
stronger; that strength was flowing back into her muscles and bones.
"Nearly twice light speed."
"Faster!" she cried. "We must go much faster! I must be young again.
Youthful, and gay, and alive and happy.... Tell me, Robert, do you feel
younger yet?"
He did not answer.
* * * * *
Ninon lay in the acceleration sling, gaining strength, and--she
knew--youth. Her lost youth, coming back, to be spent all over again.
How wonderful! No woman in all of time and history had ever done it. She
would be immortal; forever young and lovely. She hardly noticed the
stiffness in her joints when she got to her feet again--it was just from
lying in the sling so long.
She made her voice light and gay. "Are we not going very, very fast,
now, Robert?"