Kirk looked at the looming, overtopping cliffs of stars that went up to the glowing nebula above and down to the black pit of absolutely nothing below.
He thought of Lyllin, waiting for him back at Vega. A starman had no business with a wife.
He said again, "Radar?"
"Still nothing," said Garstang. His square face was no less grim than Kirk's. He was captain of this flagship Starsong, and what happened to her was important to him. "If there is a base here," he said, "we should have come in with the whole squadron."
Kirk shook his head. He had made his decision and he was not going to start doubting it now, no matter how lonely and exposed he felt.
"That could be exactly what Solleremos wants. With the right kind of ambush, a whole squadron could be clobbered in this mess. Then Lyra would be wide open. No. One ship is enough to risk."
"Yes, sir," said Garstang.
"The hell with you, Joe," said Kirk. "Say what you're thinking."
"I am thinking that the rumor mentioned cruisers, plural, indefinite. We'd better catch them while they're all asleep."