But when the stars steadied and took on their own colors, the blaze of a small green sun was steady in the viewport. "Meristem," Vorongil said, taking the controls himself. "Let's hope the place is really uninhabited and that catalogue's up to date, lads. It wouldn't be any fun to burn up some harmless village, or get shot at by barbarians--and we're setting down with no control-tower signals and no spaceport repair crews. So let's hope our luck holds out for a while yet." Bart, feeling the minute, unsteady trembling somewhere in the ship--_Imagination_, he told himself, _you can't feel metal-fatigue somewhere in the hull lining_--echoed the wish. He did not know that he had already had the best luck of his unique voyage, or realize the fantastic luck that had brought him to the small green star Meristem. CHAPTER NINE The crews of repairmen were working down in the hull, and the _Swiftwing_ was a hell of clanging noise and shuddering heat. Maintenance was working overtime, but the rest of the crew, with nothing to do, stood around in the recreation rooms, tried to play games, cursed the heat and the dreary dimness through the viewports, and twitched at the boiler-factory racket from the holds. Toward the end of the third day, the biologist reported air, water and gravity well within tolerable limits, and Captain Vorongil issued permission for anyone who liked, to go outside and have a look around. Bart had a sort of ship-induced claustrophobia. It was good to feel solid ground under his feet and the rays of a sun, even a green sun, on his back. Even more, it was good to get away from the constant presence of his shipmates. During this enforced idleness, their presence oppressed him unendurably--so many tall forms, gray skins, feathery crests. He was always alone; for a change, he felt that he'd like to be alone without Lhari all around him. But as he moved away from the ship, Ringg dropped out of the hatchway and hailed him. "Where are you going?" "Just for a walk." Ringg drew a deep breath of weariness. "That sounds good. Mind if I come along?" Bart did, but all he could say was, "If you like." "How about let's get some food from the rations clerk, and do some exploring?" The sun overhead was a clear greenish-gold, the sky strewn with soft pale clouds that cast racing shadows on the soft grass underfoot, fragrant pinkish-yellow stuff strewn with bright vermilion puff-balls. Bart wished he were alone to enjoy it. "How are the repairs coming?" "Pretty well. But Karol got his hand half scorched off, poor fellow. Just luck the same thing didn't happen to me." Ringg added. "You know that Mentorian--the young one, the medic's assistant?" "I've seen her. Her name's Meta, I think." Suddenly, Bart wished the Mentorian girl were with him here. It would be nice to hear a human voice.