But now there was nothing to do—except try to sleep and be ready.
Strong hands shook him out of restless sleep. He opened his eyes and saw complete darkness. He thought at first that his eyesight had failed.
"Ben! Wake up!" Maggie's voice came to him, crisp, commanding. "The rocket's coming. I've decoded the message. We only have a few minutes."
The girl snapped on a small bulkhead light. She left him alone to dress.
He slid out of bed, a drowsiness still in him. He reached for his clothing. Abruptly, the full implication of what she had said struck him.
Jacob's rocket was coming. This was the time for decision, yet within his taut body there was only a jungle of conflicting impulses.
Maggie returned, her face hard, her eyes asking the silent question.
Ben stood frozen. The slow seconds beat against his brain like waves of ice.
At last she said, "Ready, Ben?" She spoke evenly, but her searching gaze belied the all-important significance of her words.