ired of thinking that over, just let me know. I'll fly you
out."

"We can always depend on Johnny," said Paresi with no detectible
emphasis at all.

"Not on me," said Johnny, and swatted the bulkhead. "On the ship.
Nothing on any planet can stop this baby once I pour on the coal. She's
just got too much muscles."

"Well, Captain?" asked Hoskins softly.

Anderson looked at the basking valley, at the too-blue sky and the
near-familiar, mellow-weathered crags. They waited.

"Take her up," said the Captain. "Put her in orbit at two hundred kilos.
I'm not giving up this easily."

Ives swatted Johnny's broad shoulder. "That's a take-off _and_ a
landing, if I know the Old Man. Go to it, Jets."

Johnny's wide white grin flashed and he strode to the control chair.
"Gentlemen, be seated."

"I'll take mine lying down," said Ives, and spread his bulk out on the
acceleration couch. The others went to their take-off posts.

"On automatics," said the Captain, "Fire away!"

"Fire away!" said Johnny cheerfully. He reached forward and pressed the
central control.

Nothing happened.

Johnny put his hand toward the control again. It moved as if there were
a repellor field around the button. The hand moved more and more slowly
the closer it got, until it hovered just over the control and began to
tremble.

"On manual," barked the Captain. "Fire!"

"Manual, sir," said Johnny reflexively. His trembling hand darted up to
an overhead switch, pulled it. He grasped the control bars and dropped
the heels of his hands heavily on the firing studs. From somewhere came
a muted roar, a whispering; a subjective suggestion of the thunder of
reaction motors.

A frown crossed Paresi's face. The rocket noise was gone as the mind
reached for it, like an occluded thought. The motors were silent; there
wasn't a tremor of vibration. Yet somewhere a ghost engine was warming
up, preparing a ghost ship for an intangible take-off into nothingness.

He snapped off the catch of his safety belt and crossed swiftly and
silently to the console. Johnny sat raptly. A slow smile of satisfaction
began to spread over his face. His gaze flicked to dials and gauges; he
nodded very slightly, and brought both hands down like an organist
playing a mighty chord. He watched the gauges. The needles were still,
lying on their zero pins, and where lights should have flickered and
flashed there was nothing. Paresi glanced at Anderson and met a worried
look. Hosk