They were standing beside the car, Joshua slightly behind his benefactor. "From the platform."
Gorman scowled and half turned. "What are you doing?"
"I'm holding a gun against your back. It is a very small gun. No one can see it and it probably wouldn't kill you. Then again, it might. We will walk to the platform and stand together to watch the blast-off."
"You'd actually—kill, to get that ship into the air?"
"If I committed murder, I would certainly regret it the rest of my life, but the rocket must be launched."
They stood in the glass enclosure on the platform and no one came near them. Several people veered close and waved. Joshua waved back with his free hand and the people went on their way.
An hour passed. There was vast activity on the field. Gorman said, "I'm tired. I want to sit down."
"It was thoughtless of me. I should have provided chairs. It won't be long now."
It wasn't long. Five minutes later there was a roar, an explosion of color, and a silver rocket flash up into the sky almost faster than the eye could follow.
Gorman slammed the heel of his hand against the side of his head in order to restore hearing. "You can put that gun away."