His eyes glanced over the great bulk of her, making certain she was secure. Then he, too, walked from her, but not as quickly as the rest.
Captain Nicholas Joel walked slowly, because he was tired.
On every side of him, in dark shadow against the night, there were tall, slender, streamlined shapes pointing toward the stars.
His slow boot-steps echoed from their hulls as he passed, a tiny midge of a thing, between them.
As Sam had said, these were things that Man had made.
And among them again was the White Whale.
They had said he was a good pilot.