Finally his wife came over and put her hand on his arm. "You might as well give in, Mr. C. Besides, your leg is not strong enough to do without one—yet."
Still grumbling, he let the boys help him into the wheel chair ... but they noticed his sigh of relief when he was settled and the weight was taken off his feet. His body trembled with weakness, in spite of his efforts to control himself.
The chair, their books and cases were soon loaded into the copter, then Jon directed, "Colonial Board building, please."
The little ship rose swiftly on her whirling vanes, then streaked through the clear air toward the center of the great city of Centropolis, while the four watched the familiar sights of "home" with eager, happy eyes.
"Look at the trees and flowers," Jak called excitedly, pointing at the riot of color below. "They're getting green and in full bloom. It's late spring here, yet it was fall back on Three."
"Different suns, different seasons on the various planets." There was amusement in his father's voice.
"Sure, you ought to know that," Jon said condescendingly.
"I do know it, you fathead. I was just...."
"Now, Boys," their mother interposed—and the two grinned covertly at each other. Poor mother never seemed to realize there was no real animosity behind their bickerings.
It took only a few minutes for the swift taxi-hopper to ferry them from the spaceport to the roof of the huge Colonial building. Tad Carver paid the fare, the boys again filled their arms with their books and cases, and Mrs. Carver pushed the wheel chair to the elevator. They descended to the Board headquarters' floor.