"I am sure you are right," Comstock said tensely. "I am sure that every human being fears something ... or someone."
"I find your remarks contradictory."
"Not at all," Comstock felt a little bolder. Crossing his arms, he dared the thunderbolts of The Grandfather's wrath. "I don't think you are a human being, grandpa."
The silence that followed his pronouncement seemed to last for all the years of Comstock's life.
When The Grandfather spoke, his words came as a withering shock to Comstock.
"You are a very brave man, Comstock. The bravest this world of ours has produced in five centuries...."
It was, after all, one thing to have an hypothesis, it was an astrobat of a far different color to have that hypothesis substantiated. And right from the astrobat's mouth at that!
Looking down at his hands, Comstock was incuriously aware that they were trembling violently. He, brave? The idea was ludicrous. He was more badly scared than he had ever been in his whole life. Fear jumped and jolted through his body as he waited for The Grandfather to continue.
"But," The Grandfather said, "I can see that you are on the very brink of nervous exhaustion. I will speak to you more fully when you are fed and rested."
Comstock was too tired to do more than pick at the food that was provided for him in the bed-chamber to which an R.A. guided him. As a matter of fact, seated on the edge of the bed, his head whirling, he was barely aware of Pat's entrance. She had evidently been fed too, for her only concern was Comstock. Going to him, she forced him to lie down, then, as he closed his eyes blissfully at the feeling of ease that welled up in him, she gently spooned food into his mouth till his eyes closed completely.