hey knew him, they talked to him. But he was alone with his
bitch.

_I had a true wife but--_

"... minus one minute ... mark!"

_This is my day I had a true wife--_

"... three ... two ... one ... mark!"

There was the sound of a world dying in his mind, the sound of thunder,
the sound of a sun splitting, the sound of a goddess giving birth, with
pain with agony in loneliness.

A giant's fist came from out of nothingness and smashed into his body.
His chest was compressed, his face was flattened, he could not get
enough air to breathe. The heavy sledge of acceleration crushed him back
into the padded chair, inexorable, implacable, relentless, heavy. His
vision clouded in red and he thought he would die. Instead, he spoke
into the lip mike, resenting it bitterly.

"Acceleration ... nine gee." He looked at the gauge that shimmered redly
before him, disbelieving. "Altitude 20,000."

He blacked out, sinking helplessly into the black plush night of
unawareness. _I had a true I had I had--_

Awakening to pain, he glanced at the gauges. He had been gone only a
split second.

"Altitude 28,000, acceleration pressure dropping."

His face began to resume its normal shape as the acceleration dropped.
"... six gee," he said, and breathing was easier. The giant reluctantly
began to withdraw his massive fist from Johnny's face.

He tipped a lever, watched the artificial horizon tilt slightly. "Air
control surfaces respond," he said. But soon there would be no air for
the surfaces to move against, and then he would control by flicking the
power that rumbled behind him.

"Altitude 40,000 ...

"... 85,000 ...

"... 100,000...." The sky was glistening black, he was passing from the
earth's envelope of air into the nothingness that was space. Now.

Now.

Now it was time to change angle, flatten the ship out, bring it into
position to run around the earth. _Once around lightly._

There was a high-pitched scream in his earphones. He remembered it had
been there for long, and wondered if he had told Control.

He flicked the switch that ignited the powerful steering rockets, and
the whine grew louder, unbearably loud. It sang to him, his bitch sang,
_I had a true wife, but I left her ... oh, oh, oh._

He began to feel a light tingle over his body, tiny needles delicately
jabbing every inch. His face became wooden, felt prickly. He tried to
lick his lips and could feel no sensation there. His vision fogged
again, and