"Oh, the gloom of outer space,
Where the tailless cornets race,
And the sun's a star that almost disappears
When our rockets’ steady roar.
Sings the good old song owe more,
We're outward bound again, oh, Planeteers!"
Sual Av's throaty bass reverberated through the little control-room of the cruiser, in which he sat with Gunner Welk. It rose above the soft hissing of the rocket-tubes.
"Curse me if I can see anything to make up songs about,” growled the big Mercurian.
"You have no poetry in your soul, Gunner,” retorted the little Venusian with a grin. “A poetic genius like myself doesn't make up his songs — they come to him out of the great ether."
"They sound uncommonly like the bellowing of a Jovian marsh-calf when they do force themselves out,” said Gunner Welk dourly. “Besides, you'll wake up John."