Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; Space warfare -- Fiction
"Right here, Peg--take it easy," he advised, and groping fingers
touched and clung. "They'll probably light up again. Maybe this is
their way of having night. We can't do much, anyway, until it gets
light again. We couldn't possibly find the _Skylark_ in this darkness;
and even if we could feel our way downriver we'd miss the island that
marks our turning-off point. Here, I feel a nice soft rock. I'll sit
down with my back against it and you can lie down, with my lap for a
pillow, and we'll take us a nap. Wasn't it Porthos, or some other one
of Dumas' characters that said, 'He who sleeps, eats'?"
"Dick, you're a perfect peach to take things the way you do."
Margaret's voice was broken. "I know what you're thinking of, too. Oh,
I _do_ hope that nothing has become of them!" For she well knew that,
true and loyal friend though Seaton was, yet his every thought was for
his beloved Dorothy, presumably still in _Skylark Two_--just as Martin
Crane came first with her in everything.
"Sure they're all right, Peg." An instantly suppressed tremor shook
his giant frame. "They're figuring on keeping them in the _Lark_ until
they raise her, I imagine. If I had known as much then as I know now
they'd never have got away with any of this stuff--but it can't be
helped now. I wish I could do something, because if we don't get back
to _Two_ pretty quick it seems as though we may snap back into our own
three dimensions and land in empty space. Or would we, necessarily? The
time coördinates would change, too, of course, and that change might
very well make it obligatory for us to be back in our exact original
locations in the _Lark_ at the instant of transfer, no matter where we
happen to be in this hyperspace-hypertime continuum. Too deep for me--I
can't figure it. Wish Mart was here, maybe he could see through it."
"You don't wish so half as much as I do!" Margaret exclaimed feelingly.
"Well, anyway, we'll pretend that _Two_ can't run off and leave us
here. That certainly is a possibility, and it's a cheerful thought to
dwell on while we can't do anything else."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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