Jordan nodded contemptuously. "I know what he's like. He's got nothing to say to me."
Nona, leaning against the panel, paid no attention to any of them. She seemed to be listening to something nobody else could hear, she, to whom sound had no meaning. Docchi's body sagged as he went out. Her perpetual air of wondering search for something she could never have was not new but it was no more bearable because of that.
And while Docchi slept the race went on against a slowly changing backdrop of stars and planets. Only the darkness remained the same; it was immutable. The little flecks of light that edged nearer hour after hour didn't seem cheerful to Jordan. His lips were fixed in a thin hard line. His expression didn't alter. Presently, long after Earth was far behind, he heard Docchi come in again.
"I've been thinking about it," said Cameron. "Nice speech."
"Yeah." Docchi glanced at the screen. The view didn't inspire comment.
Cameron was standing at the threshold. "I may as well tell you," he said reluctantly. "I tried to stop the broadcast as soon as I found out what was going on. You wouldn't listen."
He came on into the control compartment. Nona was huddled in a seat, her face blankly incurious. Anti was absent, replenishing the acid for her robe. "Do you know why the Medicouncil refused to let you go?"
"Get to the point."
"Damn it, I am," said Cameron, sweating. "The Centauri group contains several planets, just how many we're not sure. From what we know of cosmology there's a good chance intelligent life exists there, probably not far behind us in technical development. Whoever goes there will be our representatives to an alien race. What they look like isn't important; it's their concern. But our ambassadors have to meet certain minimum standards. It's an important occasion, our future relations rest on. Damn it—don't you see our ambassadors must at least appear to be human beings?"
"You're not telling us anything new. We know how you feel." Jordan was rigid with disgust.