"Ten hours, Earthman. It is possible. That is the planet Vulcan."
"Unbelievable," Mark almost whispered. "Why, it takes the fastest Patrol cruiser forty-eight hours to reach Mercury's orbit from Venus. Lord! What sort of speed has this Spacer?"
But Aladdo didn't answer. A door had opened and Luhor stepped in.
"Vulcan," he said tonelessly. "As we approach, even the thickness of these ports won't be enough. Put on these."
He handed the men pairs of Crystyte goggles, the lenses specially processed.
"Does this mean we're actually going to attempt a landing on Vulcan?" Mark asked the half-breed. "It's madness! It has never been done!"
"But it has been done." Luhor gazed at Mark frigidly. "You merely have never heard of it."
"Who's at the controls?" Mark struggled to subdue the excitement in his voice.
"Why, the Commander, naturally—assisted by myself." Luhor's vast chest arched with pride. "Observe closely, Earthman, and you will be treated to as masterly a feat of navigation as you're likely ever to see again!" His purple orbs roved over the men, clean-dressed, and rested, the haunted look beginning to fade from their eyes. He nodded approval, as he turned and left.
"A base at Vulcan!" Mark was repeating inwardly. And a cold fear at this growing mystery grew apace within him.