The bright flame of hope that had flared up in Kent Knight's heart was blown out by despair. Of course, what would stay the Things from taking over the minds of the SP crew?
"That is right," It agreed. "Nothing can stop us. Even now the commander is coming across."
Kent Knight looked at the viewplate. A spacelock had opened, spewed forth five space-suited figures.
So many times I have done exactly what they are doing. Push the stud at your belt, feel the kick as the tiny cycs take hold and spit their energy from the jets at your back. Wonder why this exile-ship came across the line? You think: Are they waiting with guns, ready to blow us up when we step into the airlock? Or is there something terribly wrong? Has the loneliness made them mad so they risk coming back just to see Earth at closer range? Or are all of them dead?
I used to think all those things, Kent Knight. Remember? Then I walked away from Mary Jo, got stinking drunk, and tried to hide it when I took a ship out on patrol. So now a commander comes to find out why we have crossed the line.
Better help out Captain Hansen now. Don't want him to start talking about how young he looks.
Kent Knight strode out of the messhall, heading for the main airlock, Sammy and his bottle tagging along behind. All around him, Knight felt the excited whisper of the Things.
"I don't know what to tell them, Kent," Captain Hansen said anxiously. "I forgot all about the line. But something kept telling me, 'We're going home. We're going home ...' and I just set the course. It seemed so natural, Kent."
"I know, Ike," Knight said softly. Then, as the turning levers on the inner lock moved, he added, "Here they come."