"Oh, I know you're right," said Carolyn, clinging more tightly than ever to Lance's solid frame. "You're always right, just like the Space Service is always right. But I have a woman's intuition. And I ... I sense—"
Unable to finish, she released her grasp and once more withdrew into herself.
Lance's big muscular hand reached out, tilted the girl's chin upward. Her face was tear-stained for sure, now.
"Honey, this won't ever do."
"I can't help it."
"You're torturing yourself with useless premonitions." Lance wiped the briny shine from the girl's cheeks as he talked, his own voice getting hoarser. "Carolyn, I love you so much that I ... well, you know I happen to hunger for you more than I do that Christmas tree on my control deck. But I just couldn't give up a chance to solo out to the stars. I couldn't, baby. I'd probably be court-martialed, anyhow," he added.
"No, Lance. They wouldn't do that. Not unless you actually got into space, then turned back. I asked Major Carmody."
"Carolyn! You didn't?"
The girl nodded, affirming the truth of what she said. "Lance, I had to. T-there are some things I know about that you don't." A note of sudden urgency now tinged her voice. "Strange unfathomable things. Many of the other pilots who've come back have not been right. I think it has something to do with their having been outside of normal space—"