"They say the dead are lonely," husked Todd. "And Biggs, who died in
the loneliness of negative space might be doubly so. Suppose he wants
company. After all, he didn't promise us success. He only said, 'We'll
soon be together.' But where, Sparks--where? In this world, or--"
I shook myself savagely. I couldn't deny that his words had given me
a bad case of icicles on the vertebræ. I knew something else, though,
too. That Lancelot Biggs, alive or dead, had never yet given me a bum
steer. And that I, for one, meant to see this thing through--or bust!
Bust! I didn't like that word, either. Not when I thought of our new
course, and us blasting hell-for-leather toward massive, crushing
Jupiter.
* * * * *
Then somehow twenty-four hours, Earth standard, had passed. And by
labors verging on the miraculous, we had completed the task set before
us. And now, with the second part of Biggs' instruction before us, we
were standing in the control turret of the weirdly altered _Saturn_,
watching the small hand of the chronometer creep toward the thin black
mark that represented our deadline.
Cap Hanson, who had been a bulwark of strength when there was work to
do, was as squirmy as a hen on a cactus egg now that all we had to do
was wait. He paced anxiously back and forth between the control-banks
and the visiplate. Once he squinted through the perilens and turned to
me nervously.
"You're _sure_ you got that message right, Bert?" he demanded for maybe
the thousandth time. "You couldn't have made a mistake."
"I could have," I reassured him, "but I'll bet you my pension I didn't.
I've been pushing keys for too long not to get my did-da-dits straight,
Skipper."
"We're awfully close to Jupiter," scowled the Old Man. "_Awfully_
close. I--I don't like it. Not only that--but we're running away from
Europa as fast as we can. If the Corporation ever finds out about
this--"
"They can't miss," I said. "They know how long it should have taken us
to get to Europa. Matter of fact, Cap, we should be landing there right
now. We're going to lose a little time in establishing those claims.
But if by losing a little time we can find Lanse Biggs again, why--"
"_Awfully_ close!" complained the skipper. He turned to Todd suddenly.
"Dick--we can't risk it! There must be a mistake somewhere. Jupiter
fills all space before us. If we get caught in its gravitational power,
we'll all be killed.
"We've got to turn back. Send the message down to the engine-room.
Reverse motors and lift!"