One minute thirty seconds to go.
The hatch slides open again. I take a deep breath.
I am still holding it when the colonel's voice comes over the speaker: "Calling Gilgamesh. Calling the hopper. Good-by and Good luck. You're on your own."
The ship is gone.
Yet another stretch of time has been marked off for us. Thirty-seven minutes, the least time allowable if we are not to get overheated by friction with the air. Mr. Yardo is a good pilot; he is concentrating wholly on the visiscreen and the thermometer. B and I are free to look around.
I see nothing and say so.
I did not know or have forgotten that Incognita has many small satellites; from here there are four in sight.
I am still looking at them when B seizes my arm painfully and points below us.
I see nothing and say so.