At the conclusion of thirty-four hours, Gavin was groggy with fatigue. His eye-lids felt like sandpaper. He was irritable as a bear. He cursed the jetman and master mechanic whenever they failed to jump fast enough at the rasp of his voice.
His chin dropped against his chest. He snapped his head up, realizing he'd been asleep on his feet, and glanced at the chronometer. He had been on watch for thirty-seven hours.
Someone tapped his shoulder.
Gavin swung around and rubbed his blood-shot eyes. A small wiry man with his head swathed in bandages had descended the ladder without Gavin's hearing him.
"I'm Villanowski," said the man in a cultured voice. "Chief engineer. Sorry I couldn't relieve you sooner."
Gavin shook hands, feeling an almost uncontrollable urge to throw himself on the deck and sleep. He repeated the course and their acceleration mechanically.
"Go on to your cabin," the chief urged. "Get a good sleep. We'll have to stand four hours on and four off the rest of the voyage, but it'll only be two weeks."
"Two weeks!" Gavin echoed. "But that's impossible, sir." His fatigued brain grasped at the puzzle confusedly and then came up with an answer. "We're turning back to Venus?"
"No." Villanowski shook his head. "We're going on to Jupiter."
"But that's a twelve month voyage."