"That girl!" He whistled. "She's back at the ship now, cleaning and polishing, putting everything together with spit and string so you wouldn't know the old Karden Cruiser."
I felt something gnawing away, deep inside my stomach, and it wasn't just that I was hungry. "The what?" I demanded.
Gramps smiled, and right then I could have seen him rocking on a chair on a little porch, with a garden full of rose bushes and crab grass. I could have seen him anyplace but here with Clair and me, on the eve of the great blast-off for the asteroid belt. "The what?" I said again.
"The old Karden Cruiser, Jerry. Neat little job. And cheap—they almost gave it away. You shoulda seen those durned fools. No one else bid for it, I had it all to myself, first bid."
I tried to be patient. "You didn't expect anyone else to bid for that, did you?"
He had a hurt look on his face. "Why not? A good ship, kid. When I was your age, younger, I went to Venus on one. I can remember—"
"That's it," I told him. "Fifty years ago the Karden might have been a good ship, but not now. Not now, Gramps. It's as obsolete as a pea-shooter. Will it run?"
"You're durned tootin' it'll run. What do you think I paid? Go ahead, guess."
Something was still gnawing at my stomach. Gramps had had three hundred dollars to purchase our ship and equipment. You could stretch three hundred dollars a long way if you bought wisely these days. "You tell me," I said.