"Of course I can," Nixon agreed. "I certainly don't want to make it hard, Nona. If you people got so you could trust me—"
"I think my father will trust you," she said suddenly. "Yes, that I think."
Then there came the time when Nona gestured toward the front port of the ship, down past Nixon's feet. "There is Orana," she said.
He saw it then, a great silvery crescent which had swung into view. During the hours it enlarged, until presently it was filling all that area of the sky. And a little later, Nona came climbing up the ladder to his chest.
"When you have slept the next time," she said, "we shall be there."
She seemed frightened. He could interpret more readily the expressions on her tiny, bluish face now.
"What's the matter?" he demanded.
She said, "Tork has seen with the telescope that a storm may be there when we land."
"A storm on your world? Oh, I see. Well, we have storms. Wind and rain. And I told you about a snowstorm—"
But she burst out: "A storm on Orana—Oh, giant, if only you could help us! That is what my father thinks—that you will be able to help us live on our world!"