"Not exactly," Jones said. "But there may be even stranger things." And he would say no more.
At fifty thousand miles they had lost all thought of danger. They spoke of space and the unseen medium that must be there. After forming the only logical conclusion about the nature of this, they passed on to matters of relativity and the nature of time and of life itself, understanding each in its turn.
They became so absorbed in conversation they did not even notice when they stopped talking and conversed in pure thought. Not even did they realize that a golden glow had come to their faces and bodies that was not simple light. And they were content in knowing they would never return to earth, knowing also that they would not die.
The rocket carried them one hundred thousand miles through space before it happened.
"There is someone behind us," Jones said, simply.
As he looked through the glassite hull of the space ship at the surface of the Moon a strange thing happened. A shimmering figure appeared in a halo of light.