I go quietly with Quantum in the saucer, watch him close as he putters with the instrument panel. There is a loud swish. I blink my eyes, cough once, and we are sitting down on the Quantum Spink patio. Out comes Zyb. She has hair that looks like cornsilk, which later I discover to be just that. She wears a thin dress like the old Roman dolls and displays as many curves as a Senatorial southpaw. She says in my native tongue, “Oh-h-h-h, daddy. This is Septimus” and right away I get a load of New Mu woo. I guess they don’t have no inhibitions or finishin’ schools on the planet as she is wrapped around me like a vine while pushing my nose with hers which is New Mu’s way of kissing. I am trapped, I says to myself frantic. I must get out of here. Quantum says the wedding ceremonies will begin at eight and will last for three days. There will be great joy on New Mu. “Thank you, daddy,” Zyb says to Quantum. “It is the most wonderful birthday present. An Earthman. A true Spink. I will be the leading lady of New Mu.” I tell myself I will have to work fast before Quantum Spink calls in a lot of his flunkies. One thing I have noticed and that is that New Muans can’t run any faster than armadillos. I judge the distance to Quantum’s saucer, and take off. The New Muan cup-cake let’s out a screech as I dump her into a clump of shrubbery. Quantum rushes into the house as I dash for the saucer and I know he is not after a plantfood sandwich. I am ten feet from the saucer when he comes out and yelps for me to halt. Of course I don’t and then I see a tree disappear right next to my elbow as the disintegrator ray hits it. The second time his aim will be better I am quite sure, and I am very thankful for the buoyancy offered me by my chlorophyl content as I make the jump. I soar through space and into the saucer, then bang the door behind me. As desperate as any Spink back through the ages ever was I try all the switches. Nothing happens. Sweating yellowish green fright ping-pong balls, I look out through the port and see half a hundred New Muans sweeping toward the saucer. I yank another switch, and the saucer starts spinning, and suddenly takes off with a whining whooshing Banshee sound that scares my pants to half mast. It is impossible! I am taking off from New Mu in a flying saucer! I am sure Cyril “Muley” Spink would have done the same if he’d had a saucer in 1918. Well, I says to myself, “Calm down, Septimus. This is where you must use your dome an’ not get hysterics. You are in a New Mu saucer with gadgets all marked in New Muan gibberish, and if ever a Spink flew by the seat of his pants you have got to now.”