It was many minutes before the trio were able to discuss the matter calmly, and to realize they had been in actual danger. "I see now we sure would have been, if Jon hadn't zoomed us out of there so fast," Jak said. Finally, Mrs. Carver shook herself. "I'll go get lunch. It must be time, hungry as I feel." "Me, too," Jon laughed. "But then, I'm always hungry." As soon as the three had finished eating, Mrs. Carver and Jak went to sit with the invalid and watch hopefully for those semi-conscious moments which were becoming more and more frequent. Jon went back to check his course back to Planet Two, and to lounge later in the pilot's seat, studying from one of his reelbooks. "There must be," he told himself, "some way of handling that fuel, and of storing and using it. The fact that it was cached there on Two shows that. But then, those folks who used it were so evidently far advanced in science." A bit later the thought intruded, "Hey, if that stuff's so powerful now, after all the untold time it was stored there, what was it like when it was new?" An hour or so later he heard his name called, urgently. He sprang up and ran into the other room, to see his brother beckoning him from the doorway of their parents' bunkroom. As he came up Jon saw his mother inside, bending over the bunk. "Is--is Pop worse? He'd been so much better!" Jon's heart was clogging his speech. "No, he seems to be waking up fully." Jak turned a radiant face toward him, then immediately knelt by his father's side. Jon knelt, too, his eyes fastened on the still figure in the bed. But even as he watched, the eyelids slowly fluttered a bit, then a hand was raised to the forehead. Mr. Carver's head turned from side to side, restlessly, and then his eyes opened. They seemed to be studying each of the three watchers in turn, as well as the room in which he was lying. "What--" The voice was low, and they strained to hear, "What happened to me?" His wife answered quietly, "Don't you worry about that now, Dear. You were hurt and have been unconscious for some time. But now you're getting well, and I'll tell you all about it when you wake up again. Go back to sleep now. You are getting stronger that way." Mr. Carver seemed to be weighing that advice, then to accept it. "All right," he said with an affectionate smile. He closed his eyes, and soon the rhythmic breathing told the three anxious watchers he was asleep once more. Jon let out his breath in a happy sigh, there were tears of joy in his mother's eyes. Jak exclaimed delightedly, "He's getting well, Mother! In another day or so he'll be all right. Naturally he'd not remember clearly for a while. My textreels say people with concussions seldom do. But as soon as he gets a little stronger and those damaged places in his brain completely restore themselves, he will, you'll see."