The spacer leaped ahead, sickeningly, as acceleration multiplied in a split second. Mark glimpsed Ferris flying backward. He hadn't time to see more. Both hands gripped the stanchion now as intolerable pressure built up. His arms seemed to be wrenching from their sockets. Slowly, agonizingly, he managed to encircle the stanchion with his left arm. His right hand seemed to weigh a ton as it reached out. It touched the impellator stud ... reversed it.
Mark sagged limply forward as acceleration lowered. He hadn't the strength left to turn his head, see what had happened to Ferris.
When he did, minutes later, he saw a limp figure against the far wall. The limbs were twisted beyond recognition. The head was crushed. It wasn't a pretty sight.
Mark changed direction, headed in a sweeping parabola back toward Perlac. He avoided Brownell's previous mistake and swung wide of the planet, approaching it from the light side. He landed safely near the city. The others had already missed the ship, and they received him joyously.
They left the next day, after a final check-up. Mari had prepared long lists of items for them to bring back to her people.
The robot-Ketrik was there too, to bid them bon voyage. Brownell said:
"Ketrik, you can reclaim that body of yours. Sure you won't change your mind and go back with us?"
Again Ketrik resorted to archaic expression:
"Are you kidding?" and he glanced at Mari with his huge robot eyes.
They lifted gravs, and not until they were crossing the orbit of Pluto did Brownell remember something. He chuckled, said to Mark: