George listened carefully and at their names said, "That's us." He took her by the arm. "Better put your helmet in place. There might be a leak."
She nodded, flipping it over her head the way he did, placing the faceplate open so she could talk without using the radio. The way he seemed concerned over her made her feel ashamed she had plotted his death, and yet at the same time it made her feel glad that they had come to some silent understanding in time.
He led the way down the aisle and into the corridor that led to exit two. They passed into the lifecraft, a miniature spaceship, and sat down to wait. There were four others, three men and one woman. The pilot came in last, helmet off, and sat at the controls.
"We're leaving the ship now," he warned, and pressed several studs.
Silvia stared at the pilot. "George," she said, gripping her husband's arm. The pilot was the stranger who was going to kill George!
"We'll be all right," George assured her.
The small lifecraft trembled as its rockets blasted them with sudden acceleration into space. In seconds they were many miles beyond the Arcturus Queen.
The woman was pale and frightened. One of the men stared through a porthole. "Look at it back there," he exclaimed. "It looks like it's going to—"
"Attention all lifecraft pilots," a loudspeaker said. "Rendezvous at a point within one thousand yards of lifecraft number one. Distress signals have been sent to the outer planets of Sol and help will arrive shortly. Follow this beam." The message was repeated and then replaced by a humming sound.