Horse-sense Hank said, "Yeah?"
"There was a moment of frightful acceleration, then a sharp explosion, and when order was resumed—here we were!"
Nobody spoke, which seemed silly.
"That," I said, "doesn't make sense. Here you were. So where were you?"
"That," said Biggs dejectedly, "is just what we don't know! Ah, that sounds ridiculous to you, gentlemen? Believe me, if you knew space, as we who shuttle back and forth within it in our daily toil, you would recognize by merely glancing through the quartzite viewpanes that we are nowhere within the confines of man's studied universe!
"Space is an ebon, eternal night, pricked by a myriad glowing sparks. The stars wheel in their courses. Comets scream through the infinitude. The planets, firmly shining in the reflected glory of their several suns are colored gems upon a velvet pall. But about us now we see nothing but a dull, endless gray. There are no cosmic clouds, no meteor mists, no stars; neither light nor dark. Only nothingness, complete and unresponsive to our best instruments!"
"Huh!" broke in Hank. "Whazzat you say?"
"Apparently," explained the young lieutenant, "our delicate instruments were broken during the explosion. That is the factor making more perilous our position. We are not able to orient ourselves, discover into what portion of the universe our moment of wild flight flung us.
"I have studied and worked and thought on the problem, but to no avail. That is why, Mr. Cleaver, I undertook to find you."
Cleaver looked at the youngster admiringly.