He stood before the window, peering into the night. He knew that to attempt to sleep was futile. Sleep, for the past few days an ever-ready friend, had become a hostile stranger. _God_, his brain cried, _what shall I do?_ Slowly, the dust outside the window settled. The scream of wind was no longer audible. His startled eyes beheld dim, faraway lights--those of Hoover City, he guessed. It was as if, for the space of a few seconds, some cosmic power had silenced the Venusian fury, had guided him toward making his decision. He whipped up his compass. He barely had time to complete the measurement. "Sixty-eight degrees," he read. "Northeast by east." Fresh wind descended onto the plain. Dancing dust erased the vision of the lights. "Sixty-eight, sixty-eight," he kept muttering. But now there was nothing to do--except try to sleep and be ready. Strong hands shook him out of restless sleep. He opened his eyes and saw complete darkness. He thought at first that his eyesight had failed. "Ben! Wake up!" Maggie's voice came to him, crisp, commanding. "The rocket's coming. I've decoded the message. We only have a few minutes." The girl snapped on a small bulkhead light. She left him alone to dress. He slid out of bed, a drowsiness still in him. He reached for his clothing. Abruptly, the full implication of what she had said struck him. Jacob's rocket was coming. This was the time for decision, yet within his taut body there was only a jungle of conflicting impulses. * * * * * Maggie returned, her face hard, her eyes asking the silent question. Ben stood frozen. The slow seconds beat against his brain like waves of ice. At last she said, "Ready, Ben?" She spoke evenly, but her searching gaze belied the all-important significance of her words. In the dim light, the photograph of Jacob was indistinguishable, but Ben could still see the image of the dead man. He thought, _I can't run away with Jacob like a selfish, cowardly kid! No matter how bright the stars would be, that brightness couldn't destroy the image of a dead man with staring eyes. No matter what Jacob and Simon do to me, I've got to try to get back to Earth._ He suddenly felt clean inside. He was no longer ashamed to hold his head high. "Maggie," he said. "Yes?" "I've made my decision." Outside the window, a waterfall of flame cascaded onto the desert, pushing aside the dust and the darkness. The deep-throated sound of rocket engines grumbled above the whining wind. The floor of the dome vibrated. "The rocket's here!" Maggie cried. The flaming exhaust from the ship dissolved into the night. The rocket thunder faded into the wind. The alarm on the dome's inner airlock bulkhead rang. Maggie ran like a happy child through the concrete corridor, Ben following. She bounded into the supply room, pushed Simple Simon aside, stopped before a control panel. Her fingers flew over switches and levers.