He called Ivy on the radiophone.
"All right, Strike," her voice came back, "We'll all go through together. Ten seconds."
"Check."
"Remember to be ready to blast away from that chunk of rock, you two. As soon as it hits prime-space it will have plenty of gravity."
"Right, Ivy," Cob's voice came metallically.
"Six seconds....
"Five seconds....
"Four seconds ... three ... two ... NOW!"
Strike was dazzled by the sudden shift of lighting. The planetoid was aglow with the dancing, swirling witchfire! The skeeterboat sank toward the bright surface with a sickening lurch. Strike shoved the throttle forward and looked fearfully for a flare of fire at the south pole. There was none. Cob had gotten clear, too. The power cable snapped, but it didn't matter now. Its work was done.
The Cleopatra lay ahead now, the fire gone from her hull. Behind her blazed the familiar beacon of Achernar. Off to the right Sirius A and B dominated the sky. And near at hand below, the turbulent, smoky red surface of 40 Eridani C smouldered against the familiar backdrop of the Milky Way. Already the contraterrene planetoid was plunging toward that sullen sphere. There wasn't much time to get clear.