Out across the field, the focus of ten thousand pairs of eyes, stood the Lady Luna. She looked small from the crowd, but the three men who stood at one tail-fin were dwarfed by her size.
"This is about it, Gordon," said the oldest of the lot.
Gordon Holt nodded. "I've about five minutes yet," he said nervously.
The middle-aged man said, "Time for a last cigarette, Gordon."
Holt shook his head. "Not after training to do without for six months. Save it until I come back."
Doctor Walsch nodded. "That's good sense, Gordon. We'll be waiting for you. How do you feel?"
"Fine. Just a bit jumpy."
"You ought to feel as fit as a Guarnerius. You've been trained and you're trim and fit. I doubt that you'll ever feel any better in your life than you do right now."
General Towne nodded. "Don't forget the honor, either," he said. "The excitement should give your high feelings another lift. Imagine being the first man to ever set foot on the soil of another world."
"It's a bit of a sterile world, I'm told. Not much more honor than the first man to put his sandal on the top of Pike's Peak. They sell postcards there, now."