"All of us are crazy," said Scott. "Everyone of us. Myself included. That's why I'm blasting off alone."
"I refuse to let you go," said Alexander firmly.
Scott rested his knuckles on the desk. "You can't stop me. I have my orders to make the trip. Whether I go alone or with an assistant pilot makes no difference. That rocket blasts on time, and I'm in it when it goes."
"But it's foolishness," protested Alexander. "You'll go space-mad. Think of the loneliness!"
"Think of the coordinates," snapped Scott. "Delay the blast-off and you have to work out a set of new ones. Days of work and then it'll be too late. Mars will be too far away."
Alexander spread his hands. "All right then. I hope you make it."
Scott turned away but Alexander called him back.
"You're sure of the routine?"
Scott nodded. He knew the routine by heart. So many hours out to the Moon, landing on the Moon to take on extra fuel, taking off for Mars at an exact angle at a certain minute.
"I'll come out and see you off," said Alexander. He heaved himself up and slid into a heavy coat.