"That star," said Joshua. "That big one off to the left. The burning one . . ."
"All the stars are burning."
"But that one. The big one . . ."
"That's the one we headed for a thousand years ago," said Jon.
And he hoped it was. He wished he could be certain that it was the one.
Even as he thought it, bells of alarm were ringing in his brain.
There was something wrong.
Something very wrong.
He tried to think, but space was too close to think, space was too big and empty and there was no use of thinking. One could not outwit space. One could not fight space. It was too big and cruel. Space did not care. It had no mercy in it. It did not care what happened to the ship or the people in it.
The only ones who had ever cared had been the people back on Earth who had launched the ship, and, for a little while, the Folk who rode the ship. And finally, he and one old man. They two against all space.