"So they call it the Interplanetarian," said Russ.
Greg nodded. "Guess it's about time we talk to them. I'm afraid they're getting pretty nervous."
"Do you have any idea where we are?" demanded Ludwig Stutsman.
Craven shook his head. "No more idea than you have. Manning snaked us across billions of miles, clear out of the Solar System into interstellar space. Take a look at those stars and you get some idea."
Spencer Chambers stroked his gray mustache, asked calmly: "What do you figure our chances are of getting back?"
"That's something we'll know more about later," said Craven. "Doesn't look too bright right now. I'm not worrying about that. What I'm wondering about is what Manning and Page are going to do now that they have us out here."
"I thought you'd be," said a voice that came out of clear air.
They stared at the place from which the voice had seemed to come. There was a slight refraction in the air; then, swiftly, a man took shape. It was Manning. He stood before them, smiling.
"Hello, Manning," said Craven. "I figured you'd pay us a call when you got around to it."