Thurner's face went red. "Look, guy," he said, "The war's off, and I don't like being played for a fool. There's no impervium on Neptune."
"Sorry, Thurner. This metal did come from Neptune. I bought the back fin of the old XC-34 ... it was towed in from Nep back in '67."
"I see." Thurner's brows knitted, and he muttered an apology. Then, turning away, he ran through the logarithms in Maconachy, made a few quick checks, shifted dials coolly and competently, and leaned back. "I'll take her in from here," he said.
"From the dark side," cautioned Tim.
"Okay. I'll drive part way to Pluto ... then swing back."
"QX," said Gordon. He spun about and walked to the back of the little ship. "How do you like it, Johnny?" he asked, and Damokles' face lighted up.
"She's one dam' fine ship ... go like go-to-hell fireball ... but look it here, Meester Timmy."
"Yes?"
"Why you say she won't work for any other ships?"
"Just won't. That's all."