"Take it easy now," the man said. "Take it easy. We'll take care of you." * * * * * He ran with them to one of the repair bays of the great, doom-bound starship. In one corner, beyond the now useless patching equipment, was a table. On the table stood a model of the _Star of Fire_. It was six feet long and perfect in every external detail. He hadn't got around to the inside yet. The inside was completely empty. It had rockets and everything. There was no reason why it wouldn't be perfectly space-worthy. Why, it would even hold an atmosphere ... "In you go!" he said. The little boy was suddenly scared. "I want my Mother," he said. "I want my Dad." "In you go." Robin felt herself lifted, and thrust inside something. It was dark in there. She moved around and bumped into something. She moved around some more and bumped against the little boy from B Deck. "How do you get out of here?" she asked. "I don't know," he said. "I want my doll back," she said. "Oh yeah?" "You better give it to me." He said nothing. There was a hissing sound, and a faint roar. Far away, something slid ponderously. "Pleasant voyage, little ones!" a voice boomed. Something sat on her chest all at once, squeezing all the air from her. It was a great weight holding her motionless, squeezing. She wanted to cry, but couldn't get the sound out. She wanted her Mom. Mom would know what to do. She was crushed and flattened into a tunnel of blackness. Thirty minutes later, the starship _Star of Fire_, outworld-bound from Sol to the starswarms beyond Ophiuchus, lost all its remaining air. It became an enormous coffin spinning end over end in space amid the blaze of starlight near the center of the galaxy. One tiny spaceship, a small model of the huge liner, sped away. If it went two days finding no planet, its two occupants would perish when the small oxygen supply gave out. If it found a planet it would circle and land automatically. The possibility of this was small, but not remote. For here at the center of the galaxy, stellar distances are more nearly planetary and most of the stars have attendant planets. But even then, it would have to be a world capable of supporting their lives ... They sped on, in all innocence. She was five. He was six. His name was Charlie Fullerton. He had her doll. She hated him. * * * * * Two hours after the tiny model spaceship landed on a planet with three suns in the sky, Robin Sinclair awoke. She felt cramped and uncomfortable. It took her a while to orient herself. She had some kind of a dream. A dream was a funny thing. Mom said it wasn't real. But it sure was real to her.