Jon rose from the table. "I'll get back to my studying."
"You listen to your mother, and don't study too hard," she warned, knowing how he was apt to "lose himself" in his books. "You need plenty of rest for tomorrow."
"All right, Mom."
But when she went into the control room long after dinner, he was still deep in his reelbook. She took it away from him. "Get to bed, Jon. You promised."
"I'm sorry, Mom. Just got so interested I forgot time." He kissed her. "'Night, Mom. And don't worry. We'll make out swell."
"I'm sure of it." Her words were brave but he could see the tears were perilously close.
"You'd better ask Jak for some barbit, or you won't sleep any better than you did last night," he counseled. "Remember, he and I are going to take turns watching Pop."
"Thank you, Son. Good night."
He touched a switch and the glolights dimmed and went dark as he followed her out.
All the next morning Mrs. Carver and her two sons were in the control room—except for their frequent trips to Mr. Carver's bunk, to see how their patient was getting along. They were studying through the telescopic visiplates the solar system they were rapidly approaching. Jon had figured the sun was a Type G Dwarf, much like Sol, but a little larger. It had, they now knew, only five planets. Three of these—Two, Three and Four—had seven satellites among them. From their distances from the sun, the boys figured that probably Two and Three would have climates that human colonists, with some adaptation, could stand.