Fleet? thought Grunfeld. He turned back to the board. The first and last blue telltales still glowed for Caliban and Starveling. Breathe a prayer, he thought, for Moth and Snug.
Something else shone on the board, something Grunfeld knew had to be wrong. Three little words: SHIP ON MANUAL.
The black rim of Uranus ahead suddenly brightened along its length, which was very slightly bowed, like a section of a giant new moon. A bead formed toward the center, brightened, and then all at once the jail-yard sun had risen and was glaring coldly through its pinhole into their eyes.
They looked away from it. Grunfeld turned around.
The austere light showed the captain still in his pressure suit, only the head fallen out forward, hiding the skull features. Studying the monitor box of the captain's suit, Grunfeld saw it was set to inject the captain with power stimulants as soon as the Gravs began to slacken from their max.
He realized who had done the impossible job of piloting them out of Uranus.
But the button on the monitor, that should have glowed blue, was as dark as those of Moth and Snug.
Grunfeld thought, now he can rest.