"Get on the acceleration couch," said Marcus as he did so himself.
"Noreen, Cassalmont," the speaker droned. But now there was too much interference from the rockets. The thrust pressed Marcus deep into the flexible diaphragm. The announcer shouted, but the blood was roaring in his ears.
Marcus felt himself sliding into the gray world of takeoff.
Then they were out among the stars and the sensation of great weight rolled away. Marcus sat up.
"We didn't hear it," said Wilbur, swinging his legs.
"We didn't. But they announced it."
"I wish I'd heard," said Wilbur.
It was bothering Marcus, too. "The thing to do is to find out," he said. They went into the corridor. The rockets were silent; the star drive had taken over. The solar system was behind them, indistinguishable from the other stars.
The pilot was busy and nodded his head, asking them to wait while he set the controls. He flipped levers and after an interval turned around. "Can I help you?" he asked.