Nor did it matter that the air-conditioning system functioned perfectly. Its vents and fans had no cool air with which to bathe their bodies. From its spouts gushed blasts of withering heat, scarcely less endurable than the thickly stagnant air of unventilated corridors. One by one the travelers shed layers of useless clothing. At their point of nearest proximity to Sol, the men on duty labored in sweat-soaked shorts, while those off duty--and Nora Powell--for modesty's sake sought the sanctuary of stripped relaxation in their private quarters. * * * * * To Gary Lane's unspacetrained eye it appeared that save for this raw discomfort the period passed without incident. Once, to be true, there was a time when it seemed they would never swing out, past, and away from the sky-filling crimson globe which is Earth's sun. And once there came a breathless moment when it seemed the _Liberty_ choked and throbbed in mid-flight, shuddered violently ... then ploughed along her course. But he was not spaceman enough to read meaning into these episodes. It was not until much later, when they had recrossed the Mercurial orbit and already the scorching heat was a fading memory, that Captain Hugh Warren told him how near they had come to disaster. "Nip and tuck there for a while," he confessed, "just as we reached perigee. Even at our rate of speed I didn't think we were going to make it for a minute. And we might not have, either, if it hadn't been for O'Day." "What are you talking about?" demanded Lane. Warren grinned. "Heard of sun-baths, haven't you? Well, all of us nearly took one. Only not in the sun's rays, but in old Sol itself. Remember that time day before yesterday when the ship stalled for a minute, then trembled and went on?" "Yes. I thought something had gone wrong with the motors." "It did," grunted Warren. "Solar rays locked 'em. Hysteresis, you know. If O'Day hadn't jumped to those controls and done something--God knows what--Sol's gravitation might have pulled us in and then ... blooie! "I'm telling you, I'm glad he's along on this trip. Frankly, I don't know whether I could have pulled us out of it myself." Gary said, "And _I'm_ glad I didn't know about it until it was all over! It is all over? We're in good shape now?" "Yes. Though I'm afraid the jets may be a bit warped from the beating they took. Not enough to cause us any trouble, I guess, but we'll have to have them fixed up when we get to Mars." "And that should be--?" "Oh, at least another ten days. Might as well relax and enjoy yourself. Speaking of which--" Warren's tone altered suddenly--"there's something I'd like to mention. I hardly know how to say it, but--" Gary stared at him puzzledly. "Well, go ahead." "It's about Nora ... Miss Powell. I mean--I never quite understood the setup between you two. I don't want to poach on a friend's preserves, but in this instance--"