Burt got up, laughing. "So that's how you teach your kids to call their
old man, eh?"
* * * * *
Burt walked toward the incredibly close horizon. You could see the
curvature of the tiny planet quite distinctly, and in a tight circle
all around them the pale blue sky came down and met the jumble of rocks
and crystal which was the surface of the asteroid. Johnny had called
from someplace beyond the horizon, and as he walked, Burt heard him
again: "You deaf, pop? C'mere!"
Johnny was standing, little hands on little hips, near a mound of dull
metal. No, it wasn't a mound--it was battered and twisted and rusted,
but the tear-drop shape was unmistakable. A spaceship....
Burt found the ancient airlock and pushed through the rusted door. He
looked at the control panel. "It's an old Havelock," he muttered, "I'll
be damned. They haven't made these in twenty years."
He went outside again, where Johnny still stood.
"Pretty nifty, eh pop?" the boy said.