Instead, a pitch-black night came down. Only in one tiny spot, almost directly over the fallen globe-ship, could he detect a spark of light.
Then it, too, vanished.
Boone cursed aloud.
But when, once again, he scanned the sky, the spark was back where it had been.
Or was it? Before, the glint had shone cold and blue. Now, it seemed to have a faint orange cast.
He settled down to watching it, as nearly without blinking as he could.
For a few minutes it grew brighter, then faded again till only ebon black remained.
Still Boone held his eyes on the place where it had been.
A dim, greenish glow, so pale he could not be sure that it was really there. Then a pin-prick of undeniable light.
Minutes, ticking by.