"Quite so, Jules; quite so. Well, let's detach the towing cable and be on our way."
"Whither, m'lud, Vesta?"
"I rather thought Pallas this time, old thimble."
"Still, m'lud, Vesta—"
"Pallas, Jules."
"Vesta?"
"Hum, hi, ho," said Captain St. Simon thoughtfully. "Pallas?"
The argument continued while the tow cable was detached from the freshly-placed anchor, and while the air was being let back into the control chamber, and while St. Simon divested himself of his suit. Actually, although he would like to go to Vesta, it was out of the question. Energywise and timewise, Pallas was much closer.
He settled back in the bucket seat and shot toward Pallas.