It was difficult to land a familiar ship on an asteroid, and since Nathan had never landed the Corsair anywhere it was next to impossible to make an accurate landing. But the urgency of Firebird's desire told him it was worth the risk of taking the ship down upon the jagged surface of the strange little rock.
He swept around it in an ever narrowing spiral until he finally came low over the wide depression that held the shining "pool". He dropped the ship rapidly, braking the Corsair and letting it arc upwards to a stall.
Swiftly, Nathan cut the propulsion tubes. The forward brakes dropped the ship to the surface. The Corsair settled with a hard jolt. A poor landing but good under the circumstances.
Nathan hurried back to the stateroom of the Firebird. There he halted in the doorway at the sight that met his eyes. The Firebird had risen from the bunk and was standing in the middle of the room swaying like some disjointed robot, gibbering wildly through her nerveless lips. She was facing the port and shaking the stump of her hand at the shining pool visible outside.
Nathan caught her frantic words. "Air there—no suit—"
She was hysterical. He made up his mind. The life of Firebird was no more than a candle flame in a hurricane now. The least he could do was grant her final wishes. If she wanted him to end her life by thrusting her out into the cold of interplanetary space and bury her in the "pool" it would be only merciful.
He donned a space suit quickly and went back to Firebird. She had collapsed into unconsciousness and lay in a pitiful huddle in the middle of the floor. Perhaps she was already dead, he thought.
Carrying her, he entered the airlock and paused the moment it required for evacuation. It seemed to take an unusually short time to equalize the pressure, then he stepped out. He had expected the body of Firebird to become distorted and instantly frozen by the cold, but she changed not at all as he stepped to the surface of the asteroid, held down by the traction shoes of the suit.
He checked the thermometer on his sleeve. Only thirty degrees below zero, and not falling.
He approached the pool that glistened like a shining disc of metal in the brilliant sunlight. He kicked a stone onto it, and ripples arose. It was liquid, and very dense—like a pool of mercury.