And soon the little ship was speeding across the interplanetary wastes, guided only by the automatic pilot, while inside four weary people slept peacefully, knowing the mechanisms would guide them safely and surely to their distant, plotted destination.
For, outside of a possible recurrence of the accident that had caused Mr. Carver's injury—and that was a billions-to-one chance that could not possibly strike them again—what was there to fear away out here?
Nevertheless, it was the sudden ringing of an alarm bell that woke them all into instant, wondering wakefulness.
13
"What in the world?" Jon's eyes snapped open and immediately began scanning the various telltales on the panel, while from the other three came a chorused, "What's wrong?"
"Something out here using atomic energy." Jon's surprised voice made them raise their seats quickly to upright, so they could better see for themselves.
Mr. Carver hastily adjusted his visiplate to maximum magnification, and began searching the heavens surrounding them. "A ship, you think?"
"Yes, and quite close." And a moment later, aided more surely by his more complex instruments, Jon cried, "There it is! RA 11; square 17 on the plate."
His father's flying fingers found the object, then narrowed his focus of vision and stepped up the magnification. His eyes grew large, then hard and tense, as he studied the close-up image. "Slik Bogin's ship—I'd know that anywhere!" he exclaimed, and the boys looked at him in puzzled concern.