I'd break away, go it alone to the right sun, Russell thought—but I'd never make it alone. A little while out here alone and I'd be nuttier than old Dunbar will ever be, even if he keeps on getting nuttier all the time.
Somewhere, sometime then ... Russell got the idea that the only way was to get rid of Dunbar.
ou mean to tell us there are people living by that red-rimmed sun," Russell said.
"Lost people ... lost ... who knows how long," Dunbar said, as the four of them hurtled along. "You never know where you'll find people on a world somewhere nobody's ever named or knows about. Places where a lost ship's landed and never got up again, or wrecked itself so far off the lanes they'll never be found except by accident for millions of years. That's what this world is, boys. Must have been a ship load of beautiful people, maybe actresses and people like that being hauled to some outpost to entertain. They're like angels now, living in a land all free from care. Every place you see green forests and fields and blue lakes, and at nights there's three moons that come around the sky in a thousand different colors. And it never gets cold ... it's always spring, always spring, boys, and the music plays all night, every night of a long long year...."
Russell suddenly shouted. "Keep quiet, Dunbar. Shut up will you?"
Johnson said. "Dunbar—how long'll it take us?"
"Six months to a year, I'd say," Dunbar yelled happily. "That is—of our hereditary time."
"What?" croaked Alvar.