The next morning he felt the same way. He was called into HQ for last minute instructions that were the same as those laid out months ago. Cantrell knew them by memory, but the excitement of the impending blastoff prevented his being bored or even from being annoyed by the psychiatrist's inevitable presence. Now there was nothing to prevent the leap of the Earthbound into space; not even Jarvis could delay it now.
The jeep drove Jarvis, Evans and Cantrell to the waiting rocket. They got out.
Evans offered his hand. "Good-bye, Cantrell, come back in one piece."
"Sorry I was so hard on you, Cantrell," Jarvis said, extending his hand. "I hope you make it okay."
Cantrell nodded and took the man's hand. "Thanks. I expect to."
He climbed the ladder to the airlock door and stood there for a moment watching the jeep carry its passengers across the field to a safe distance. Then he went inside and strapped himself into the seat.
"Okay, Cantrell," Control said. "Blast off when ready."
"Right," Cantrell said into the radio. He closed the airlock door and checked pressure gauges. "In ten seconds," he said, activating the firing mechanism. Mentally he counted: ten, nine, eight, seven....
The rocket shuddered, and Cantrell found himself pressed suddenly into the seat. In the viewscreens Earth spun dizzily away from him. After a few minutes the push ceased and weightlessness began.
"Everything okay, Cantrell?" the radio said, after awhile. It was Evans.