Outside, Ethancaught a brief glimpse of guards.
Marlowe, chief training director of space pilots for InterplanetTransport, Inc., walked in silence across the room and eased tiredlyinto a chair behind the desk. He'd gotten the news late at night, havingbeen the first one contacted. The ship that had been lost had showed upin the atmosphere. There couldn't be a mistake. No other flight wasscheduled for months.
"Follow it," he had ordered and the trackers had kept it on the screen,flashing a message to the police as soon as they located where itlanded. It was logical that it should go where it did, but he didn'tthink that anything about this flight was susceptible to a rationalapproach.
Marlowe's eyelids felt lined with sand, but that was as nothing comparedto his mental irritation. The two oldsters were dead and the ship wasvaporized in the Sun. But, of course, it wasn't true and he had tofigure out why.
Others would be here to help him unravel the mystery, from Demarest ondown. Meanwhile, he was first. There was a lesson to learn if he couldfigure out what it was. Damn these senile incompetents.
"Ethan and Amantha Huntley?" he asked. They didn't fit in with hispreconceived picture.
"You the judge?" said Ethan. "I demand to see a lawyer. We've got ourrights."
"Why don't you let our son in?" Amantha protested. "I know he's beendying to see us. You can't keep us locked up like this."
"Please! I've just come from a consultation with your son. You'll seehim soon. As for being detained, you've been well treated. Most of thetime, doctors have been examining you. Isn't that true?"
"What's that got to do with it?" challenged Ethan. "Never been sick aday in my life. Sure, my back hurts, and now and then my knees swell up.But it's nothing. We didn't ask for a doctor. Got our own on Mars. Youngfellow, fifty or sixty."
* * * * *
Facts contradicted each other. They were what Marlowe expected and yetthey weren't. It was hard to determine. Records showed that if the oldcouple were not actually senile incompetents, they were close to it. Nowthat they'd returned the ship in good condition, legal action againstthem would be dangerous. Everyone had grandparents and knew that theywere sometimes foolish. It was a spot to get out of as gracefully as thecompany could.
It was as training director for Interplanet Transport, however, that hewas interested in them.
"You were in space for nearly four months," he said. "Few people takethat much exposure to radiation at one time. We had to determine thestate of your health. The evaluation isn't complete, but I think we cansay you're in no immediate danger."
Did they understand? It was doubtful. No one else would have stolen theship and attempted to bring it to Earth. But, damn it, they had done so,landing the ship on the outskirts of the little town, unobserved in thegathering storm.
The facts were painfully fresh in his mind.
"I'd like to know something of your background," said Marlowe. "What'syour experience with spaceships?"
"Went to Venus in one," Ethan answered. "Also took a trip to Mars.Stayed there."
The old man had haunted the control compartment, watching how it wasdone. Some people did. But that was not a substitute for experience.
"That was long ago and you were a passenger. Anything more recent?"
"Nope. Except for this last trip."
That was what didn't make sense.
"Are you sure? Be honest. Check your memory."
The old man had once piloted jets. But it was not the same.
"No other experience," said Ethan. "Had training, though."
Marlowe knew it. Without training, no one could manage takeoff andlanding. Somehow, the official search had failed to uncover this vitalinformation. "Where did you take it?"
"Forget the name. Remember every word of it, though."
Marlowe nodded. It was often the case. Early memories were fresh andclear while later events blew over the enfeebled mind and left no trace."But you didn't tell me where."
"Don't remember that part of it. It was a mighty good course. Wasn'taccepted, even though I passed, after paying for my lessons in advance.They said I was too old."
Air lodged in his throat--Marlowe doubled over. If he'd heardrightly.... Good God, there were angels and correspondence courses thatwatched over the aged! No--give the credit to angels.
"I realized I wasn't as spry as I used to be," continued Ethanseriously. "Can't shoot off a planet or slam down on one the way yourpilots do. We were at the far end of the field, quite a ways off.Everybody was busy with the pilot who was running around. They weretrying to help him.
"Guess they didn't see us. They'd have laughed if they did. We went upslow, kind of wobbly. But we got off."
* * * * *
The old man was beaming, proud of it. He didn't know it wasn't skill butthe built-in safety factor, all the stabilizing mechanisms coming intoplay at once. Demarest, the chief of construction, had seen to it thatthe ships were well designed. Marlowe would have to commend him when hegot here.
A thought occurred to the training director. If the stabilizingmechanisms were there, why not use them always? Of course, it wasn'tthat simple. Interplanetary ship stabilizers weren't effective at highspeed.
Another thought crowded in. Why such high speed? That was something overwhich there was no choice. The protective atmosphere had to be leftswiftly. The speed was added to at every opportunity. It was possible toslow down only at the last moment. Otherwise....
Otherwise what?
There was no escape from the conclusion--otherwise heredity was alteredand mutations would result. Marlowe sat back. This was true withoutexception. It was the biggest factor that controlled the conditions ofinterplanetary flight. But--
_They'd had their children!_
Marlowe's pulse increased. As training director, he'd learned not toleap at things that merely looked good. He had to examine themcarefully. But--well, it was a new approach, though he couldn't reallyexpect anything from it. There was more to a crew than a pilot, more tospace flight than one incredible lucky voyage, for angels tookvacations, too.
"You weren't on duty at all times," Marlowe pointed out. "Then there'snavigation."
"Don't sleep much," said Ethan. "Catnap once in a while." He thought itover. "When I did sleep, 'Mantha helped out." He looked at her. "I'm notthe expert on navigation. You'd better ask her."
"_No!_" cried Marlowe.
"Why not? Just because I'm a woman?" Her eyes were bright.
"But who taught you navigation?"
Amantha sniffed. "Look here, young man, don't tell me what I can learn."She closed her eyes and imagination carried her back to the ship. "Lotsof dials and gadgets--but I used to have near as many in my kitchenbefore they said I was too old to cook. Anyway, you don't have to figureit out on paper. If you look at things just right, you sort of knowwhere you are."
* * * * *
Amantha folded her hands. "First, you take a big handful of the Sun'sattraction and mix it with a bigger scoop of the gravitation of theplanet you happen to be on. For us, that was Mars. Then you add a pinchof acceleration. That's what makes you rise. When you get out a ways,you decrease Mars and add more Earth and another pinch of Sun, stirringit around in your mind each day until it feels just right."
She smiled. "I never did hold with too much measuring."
The muscles in Marlowe's chest felt cramped from holding his breath in.While she spoke, he could almost believe she knew what she was doing,that she had a knack for it. Perhaps she did--brief flashes of clarityswept over her senile, beclouded mind. And the same with the old man.These instances of sanity--and luck--had pulled them through.
The ship was back, unharmed. He shouldn't ask for more. And yet--theyhad made it to Earth.
The chute in the desk clattered noisily and ejected a packet. Marlowelooked at it--it was for him. The full medical report; it had been slowin coming. But this was a small town. The doctor who had looked themover
was good, though. Marlowe made certain of that.
He opened the report and read. When he finished, he knew that thoughluck and angels had been with them on takeoff and part of thepassage--along with dimly remembered fragments of unrelated skills thathad somehow coalesced into a working knowledge of how to run a ship--itwasn't the whole story. When they landed on Earth, it was no miracle.They had known what they were doing.
"What is it?" asked Ethan. "Habeas corpus?"
"No," said Marlowe. But in one sense it was, though of a kind that nomere judge could return a verdict