And then the pressure began to ease. With the easing came a sobering effect to his alcohol-clouded brain. He became aware of his surroundings.
The roar and pressure. Rocket thrust to escape velocity. A space ship. It began to come clear now. No more music, no more drinks, no more smiling faces of Miles and Carol. Jeff taking him to the door.... Where then? The Space Queen II. Of course. Good old Jeff. Nursemaid Jeff. Bundling him off to Deimos to sign a contract and be best man at a wedding.
Consciousness returned to Bert Tanner and he laughed as he pushed against the restraining straps that held him to the grav bunk.
Wedding? There would be no wedding. The bride and groom would never show up! He laughed loud and long.
Then he stopped laughing. There was something wrong. Something he must find out about. He felt it. No, that wasn't it, he didn't feel it, he saw it....
This grav bunk—the control room. The Space Queen II. Something wrong—something....
He turned his head on the bunk and stared at the control panel. There was a confident hum from the auto-pilot, guiding the ship, carrying it into deep space with precision and infallible accuracy of timing. The control panel—this was not the Space Queen II!
He knew then. Incredibly, impossibly, he knew. He was in the Viking....
The Viking!
"No! No! It can't be—Jeff—what did you do—you made a mistake—this isn't the Space Queen—"