“Someone—well, you for instance,” I said to her, panting from having run, “I must send a message down to earth, to the docks. Come, I shall dictate it to you.”
Close to the apparatus there was a small box-like cabin. We sat at the table side by side. I found her hand and pressed it hard.
“Well, what is going to happen?”
“I don’t know. Do you realize how wonderful it is? To fly without knowing where ... no matter where? It will soon be twelve o’clock and nobody
knows what.... And when night.... Where shall you and I be tonight? Perhaps somewhere on the grass, on dry leaves....”
Blue sparks emanated from her and the odor of lightning, and the vibration became more and more frequent within me.
“Write down,” I said loudly, panting (from having run), “Time: eleven-twenty; speed 5800....”
“Last night she came to me with your note. I know ... I know everything; don’t talk.... But the child is yours. I sent her over; she is already beyond the Wall. She will live....”
I was back on the commander’s bridge, back in the delirious night with its black, starry sky and its dazzling sun. The hands of the clock on the table were slowly moving from minute to minute. Everything was permeated by a thin, hardly perceptible quivering (only I noticed it). For some reason a thought passed through my head: it would be better if all this took place not here but somewhere below, nearer to earth.
“Stop!” I commanded.