Avery sat in the pilot's chair, watching through the shaded port. He swung around as Falken got up. The exhaustion was gone from his square young face, but his eyes were still veiled and strange. Falken couldn't read them, but he sensed fear.
He asked, "How long have I slept?"
Avery shrugged. "The chronometer stopped. A long time, though. Twenty hours, perhaps."
Falken went to the controls. "Better go back now. We'll swing wide of Mercury, and perhaps we can get through." He hoped their constant velocity hadn't carried them too far for their fuel.
Relief surged over Avery's face. "The size of that Sun," he said jerkily. "It's terrifying. I never felt...."
He broke off sharply. Something about his tone brought Sheila's eyes wide open.
Suddenly, the bell of the mass-detector began to ring, a wild insistent jangle.
"Meteor!" cried Falken and leaped for the 'visor screen. Then he froze, staring.
It was no meteor, rushing at them out of the vast blaze of the Sun. It was a planet.
A dark planet, black as the infinity behind it, barren and cruel as starvation, touched in its jagged peaks with subtle, phosphorescent fires.