He leaped to his feet and ran toward the ship. He waved his arms in welcome and whooped with his delight. He stopped a hundred feet away when he felt the first whiff of the heat that had been picked up by the vessel's hull in its plunge through atmosphere.
"Hey, in there!" he yelled.
And the Ship spoke to him. "You need not yell," it told him. "I can hear you very well."
"Who are you?" asked Sherwood.
"I am the Ship," the voice told him.
"Quit fooling around," yelled Sherwood, "and tell me who you are."
For the sort of answer it had given was foolishness. Of course it was the ship. It was someone in the ship, talking to him through a speaker in the hull.
"I have told you," said the Ship. "I am the Ship."
"But there is someone speaking to me."
"The ship is speaking to you."