"Hello, Val," the Patrolman answered. "Man, it's good to see you!"
Elise caught Val Kenton's hand, drew him toward the ship.
"Let's not stand out here," she said impulsively. "Come inside, where we can talk." She drew a deep breath, her blue eyes sparkling. "Oh, it's good for the three of us to be together again!"
Val Kenton's smile was stiff and mechanical, as they clambered through the port into the ship's interior. He, too, felt the completeness of the moment; yet, deep in his mind, he knew that the old days of friendly camaraderie were gone forever.
They sat in the comparatively large cabin of the expedition ship, cigarettes glowing, each trying to ease the tension that lay within them all. Val Kenton sat in the co-pilot's seat, the lines of five years of dissipation clearly etched in his tired face, his clothes torn and stained. He talked jerkily, trying to avoid the bad points of the past few days, striving to make the situation appear more bearable.
"It will be a fairly simple job to fix my cruiser," he said slowly. "Tony and I will use the catalyst feed from this ship to replace my fused one."
Tony Andrews grinned, laughter wrinkles in the corners of his clear eyes. He was trim and fit in his uniform, and there was an air of competence and adventurousness in his compact body.
"We could use this entire ship for spare parts," he said ruefully. "It will never fly again, after the damage those blasted Venusians did to it with that super digestive juice they discharged."
Johnson, the expedition's chemist, glanced up from a sheet of notes he had taken from his pocket. His eyes were mild and calm as he peered at Val Kenton.