"Here they are, Father! Saved! Now, get off the ground before the Estoryans change their minds."
"We're going back," replied Green, looking in vain for the others and then deciding that the boy had outstripped them in his haste to report. He shoved the lever forward and the ship—he was beginning to think of the island as a ship—soared toward the cone of the spacecraft, which he could see glittering in the sun inside its wall near the palace. When Amra and the girls ran into the chamber and wished to throw their arms around him, he told them he'd be very glad to give each a big warm kiss later on. Right now he had work to do.
Amra's smile was replaced by a frown.
"Do you mean you're still thinking of leaving on the demon's ship?" she said harshly.
"That depends on certain factors about which I don't have enough information as yet to act on," he replied, somewhat stiffly.
The Earthman limped in. He was a tall, broad-shouldered but emaciated man. His bushy beard made his long, lean, big-eared, hawk-nosed face resemble Lincoln's.
"Captain Walzer of the Terrestrial Interstellar Fleet, Intelligence, he said, weakly.
"Alan Green, marine food specialist. I've a long story to tell and no time to tell it. I would like to know if you can pilot that spacer and if it's in operating condition. Otherwise we might as well forget it and go elsewhere."
"Yes, I'm the pilot. Hassan was the navigator and communications officer. Poor devil, he died in agony! Those beasts...!"
"I know how you feel, but we've no time to go into that. Is the ship ready to take off?"