"You're all wrong!" I shouted. "My only concern is with the welfare of Freddie. That's what got us into this predicament. I want you to understand that I'm for the system ninety-five per cent!"
Solly, Dolly, and Celia smiled. That irritated me but I let the matter drop.
"Let's consider what's to be done," I said.
"Yes," said Solly very seriously. "I can tell you this about the star-ship. On a voyage of two and a half years, nothing can be done haphazardly, at the last minute. Every berth has to be accounted for long in advance. Our baggage has been calculated down to the last ounce. The number of farming implements, the number of livestock—even the number of children you may have en route!—are strictly allocated."
"In other words, the only way we can get aboard is if someone dies or doesn't show up at the last minute?" said Celia.
"Or if you can persuade someone not to make the trip."
"And in addition get by the police," I added softly.
At seven that morning the airbus stopped to pick up the Mendelsohns and their hand luggage. We had worked out some kind of half-baked plan that I didn't think would go over with the ship's officials. We set a rendezvous time and place and waved them off. Then we got into our Cad Super. For the second time it bore us west to Spaceport.
As we neared the field, Celia commented, "You know, darling, this car is pretty conspicuous in the daytime."