A radabeam and an automatic pilot was in complete control. Moljar turned to the Terran mutant. Her taut face was trying to pierce the dense sheath of cloud.
"This is a strange dream, Mahra."
"Dream?" She turned her weird eyes on him briefly.
"What else? A half-breed, child of a Terran woman and a Martian outlaw, travels across the Sea of Death with an outcast mutant." He shook his head. "And for Alhone we fly. For Alhone, the she-monster whom no one knows, to Anghore where no one has ever been and returned."
"Is it far across this death trap?"
"I've heard that in miles it is only perhaps a hundred. But in perils—"
The girl said abruptly, angrily, "For Alhone! You're crazy! If we can take control from the automatic pilot, we could—"
"We can not do that," said Moljar. "We would only crash down there. It's bad ... down there."
She fell silent. The atomic motor whirred almost silently, driving them toward Anghore.
"There is great mystery here," said Moljar. "We seem guided by forces beyond our control. Some powerful, invisible wind."