The pilot room was in the bows. Behind it, bulkheaded off, lay the air plant and the other mechanisms for maintaining life aboard—not very extensive, for the boat wouldn't be in space long. Amidships were the control gyros, and behind still another bulkhead the engine controls. Rather than install an elaborate automatic feed system, the builders had relied on manual controls acting on light signals flashed by the pilot. It was less efficient, but it had shortened the labor of constructing the vessel and was good enough for the mere hop it had to make.
"I don't know anything about it," said Janazik doubtfully.
"I'll tell you what to do—Help me—" Leaning on the Khazaki's arm, Alonzo stumbled toward the stern.
Anse strapped his big body into the chair beside Ellen's. "I can't help much, I'm afraid," he said.
"No—except by being here," she smiled.
Looking out, he saw that the assault on the castle was almost over—beaten off. It had provided the diversion they needed—but at what cost, at what cost?
"We might as well take off for the Star Ship right away," he said.
"Of course. And that will end the war. Volakech can either surrender or sit in the castle till he rots."
"Or we can use the ship to blast the citadel."
"No—oh, Cosmos, no!" Her eyes were filled with sudden horror.