Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! rang the warning gong, reverberating through
the launching pit.
Mustapha IX had shaken hands for the last time with Villainowski and
hurried down the gangplank. The ports were all sealed; crew at their
stations. Outside the pits, the frenzied crowd was delirious with
excitement. Wasn't it man's first attempt to reach the stars?
Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!
On the last stroke the _Shooting Star_ fell silent except for the
muffled roar of her tubes warming. At the same instant the crowd grew
impossibly still.
The raw fear, which had made itself felt in spite of the festivities,
rode to the surface. The strange psychological dread of deep space.
A woman in the relatives' stand suddenly buried her face in her hands,
her shoulders shaking with violent sobs. She was the wife of the master
mechanic on the third's watch. A gray-faced man moved towards the
woman, patted her shoulders.
Just then a continuous violent explosion shook the frail stand like
an earth tremor. The _Shooting Star_ burst from the pits, trailing a
comet-tail of orange flame.
"Oh, my husband!" wailed the woman, "oh, my husband!" but her voice was
drowned in the roar.
* * * * *
Jon Saxon threw off his safety belt, glanced across at the strained
white face of Ileth Urban in the next acceleration chair. "Buck up," he
grinned. "It's too late to change your mind now."
The girl nervously tucked a curl in place, smiled uncertainly. "Heaven
help me! Are we going to share all my thoughts during the rest of the
voyage?"
"Hell, no," said Saxon. "I want to preserve some of my illusions." He
leaned towards her. "I'll strike a bargain with you, though. If you
don't mention that I'm a telepath, I'll not report our--er--experience
last night."
"You mean you haven't said anything?"
"No," said Saxon. "Why should I? I didn't have proof. Who'd want to
tackle General Atomic without cast-iron evidence? On second thought,
who'd want to tackle General Atomic at all? No one would believe
me, anyway. Just like they won't believe you if you tell them I'm a
telepath."
Saxon could see the girl reach a decision. "Oh, I wouldn't say that,"
he broke in before she could voice her thought. "You've lots of other
courses. You could snub me or spread tales behind my back."
"I didn't say it!" she retorted hotly. "I thought it. My Lord, I can't
even call my thoughts my own!"
"Then it's a bargain."
"I didn't say so."
"No. But you've decided to...."