of view. He suddenly realized what it was.

"We've just about crossed the Atlantic," he said in a peculiar
astonishment. But it was true the ship had not been aloft nearly as much
as half an hour. "Africa's just coming into sight below. We ought to be
about 1,200 miles high and still rising fast. That was the calculation."

He looked again, and then drew himself across to the opposite porthole.
He saw the blackness of space, which was not blackness because it was a
carpet of jewels. They were infinite in number and variations in
brightness, and somehow of vastly more colorings than one noticed from
Earth.

He heard the Chief grunt, and Haney gulp. He was suddenly conscious that
his legs were floating rather ridiculously in mid-air with no particular
relationship to anything. He saw the Chief rise very cautiously, holding
on to the arms of his seat.

"Better not look at the sun," said Joe, "even though I've put on the
glare-shields."

The Chief nodded. The glare-shields would keep out most of the heat and
a very great deal of the ultraviolet the sun gave off. But even so, to
look at the sun directly might easily result in a retinal sunburn which
could result in blindness.

The loudspeaker behind Joe's chair clattered. It had seemed muted by the
weight of its diaphragm at three gravities. Now it blasted
unintelligibly, with no weight at all. Mike threw a switch and took the
message.

"Communications says radar says we're right on course, Joe," he reported
nonchalantly, "and our speed's okay. We'll reach maximum altitude in an
hour and thirty-six minutes. We ought to be within calculated distance
of the Platform then."

"Good," said Joe abstractedly.

He strained his eyes at the Earth. They were moving at an extraordinary
speed and height. It had been reached by just four human beings before
them. The tannishness which was the coast of Africa crept with
astonishing slowness toward the center of what he could see.

Joe headed back to his seat. He could not walk, of course. He floated.
He launched himself with a fine air of confidence. He misjudged. He was
floating past his chair when he reached down--and that turned his
body--and fumbled wildly. He caught hold of the back as he went by, then
held on and found himself turning a grandly dignified somersault. He
wound up in a remarkably foolish position with the back of his neck on
the back of the chair, his arms in a highly strained position to hold
him there, a