The guard stared, twisting his lips. "Let her go," snapped the doctor.
The girl darted away. The guard saluted stiffly and left, rubbing his hands against his uniform. He'll go and scrub his hands, because he touched her, Cameron thought wearily.
"I have a request to make," said Docchi.
"Sure, sure," said the general cholerically. "We're apt to give you what you want. If you don't see it, just ask. We'll send out and get it."
"You might at that." Docchi was smiling openly. "You're going to leave without Nona, and very soon. When you go, don't take all the ships. You won't need them but we will, when we get to another system."
The general started to reply but his anger was greater than his epithets. There was nothing left to use, and so he remained silent.
"Don't say anything you'll regret," cautioned Docchi. "When you get back, what will you report? Can you tell your superiors that you left in good order, while there was still time to continue the search? Or will they like it better if they know you stayed until the last minute—so late that you had to transfer your men and abandon some ships? Think it over. I have your interests at heart."
The general swallowed with difficulty, his face reddening at first and then becoming quite white. Wordlessly he stamped away. Cameron looked after the retreating officer and in a few minutes followed. But he walked slower and the distance between doctor and officer grew greater. Docchi was beginning to relax at the nearness of victory and didn't notice where either of them went.
The last rocket disappeared, leaving a trail behind that overwhelming darkness soon extinguished. The sun was now one bright star among many, which one was sometimes difficult to say. And the asteroid itself seemed subtly to have been transformed, more spacious than it had been and not so dingy—and it was not hard to find a reason—it had become a miniature world, a tiny system complete in itself.