They stared for a long moment. "I don't believe it," said Fox at last. "It's a mirage. We're still in space."
"It—it frightens me," stuttered Van Gundy. "There's death out there. The air is poisonous. I feel it."
"We're crazy," Garcia spat. "As crazy as Kelly." His eyes widened. "Or maybe we're dead. Could that be?"
"E—excuse me, Captain," said Lieutenant Washington. "I think I'll go aft for a minute."
Captain Torkel said nothing. He had forgotten where he was. He was nameless and lost, among strangers in a strange place.
But at this moment he somehow did not care. He was content to let his hungry gaze absorb the rainbow beauty beyond the ports.
The meadow was like molten emerald stirring lazily in a slight breeze. The meadow was spotted with flowers as large as a man's head, shaped like teardrops, and shining purple and yellow and blue and crimson in the light from a swollen, blood-red sun.
Some five hundred yards away on the rocket's starboard side rose a towering green forest. In its shadow was a dark jungle of colossal fern and twisted vines and more flowers. Beyond that, far away, snow-cloaked mountains stretched their ponderous bulk into sea-blue sky.
Captain Torkel returned his slow gaze to the interior of the strange place in which he stood. He beheld a group of strange men doing strange things.