Blanche Holm, the pretty co-pilot, bustled about getting things in readiness for the long, forbidden journey. Humming happily, she set gears and levers in preparation for her turn at the controls. Rita Balter, the only other girl aboard ship, was unpacking and re-packing tools and gear while others were similarly occupied in the after-compartments of the Quest.
In his observatory, where he had paced the floor ceaselessly all night, Dr. Neist watched with deep emotion as the Rocketeers sped into the infinite. Painted along the ship's side in ragged blue he had read: URANUS OR BUST. He smiled sadly at their youthful exuberance. The young fools.... He knew they'd do it. Those old fossils on the Board must have been mad to think they were going to give up the idea after these exhaustive weeks of careful planning. He wished they had. Jason Day was his favorite protege: brilliant, ambitious—they were all a lot of fine kids. He shrugged his shoulders wearily....
A gleaming bronze bullet sped smoothly through space, seeming to nose into the very stars. Inside the bullet Jason was getting ready to take his turn at the controls. He found Blanche weary yet cheerful, looking forward to a rest in the sleeping quarters.
"Look at the indicator, Blanche!" he cried. The needle was quivering madly. "We're nearing it!"
"I know," she replied. "I've been watching it all night. It's been motionless until now. We must just have entered the range of its magnetic field."
"I'll take over," Jason said, excitedly. "You'd better get some sleep."
"I can't sleep now. Let me have a stimulette, will you? I've used all mine."
"Sure ... here." He handed her a capsule. "Blanche—?"