"Thanks, Tommy. But I've got to play it my way."
Tommy said firmly, "Count me in then. My ticket has stopover privileges.
I'll get off at Procyon with you."
It was a temptation--to have a friend at his back. He put his hand on
Tommy's shoulder, grateful beyond words. But fresh horror seized him as
he remembered the horrible puddle of melted robotcab with Briscoe
somewhere in the residue. Protoplasm residue enough for two bodies. He
couldn't let Tommy face that.
"Tommy, I appreciate that, believe me. But if I did find my father and
his friends, I don't want anyone tracing me. You'd only make the danger
worse. The best thing you can do is stay out of it."
Tommy faced him squarely. "One thing's for sure. I'm not going to let
you go off and never know whether you're alive or dead."
"I'll try to get a message to you," Bart said, "if I can. But whatever
happens, Tommy, stay with the ship and go on to Capella. It's the one
thing you can do to help me."
A warning bell rang in the ship. He broke sharply away from Tommy,
saying over his shoulder, "It's all you can do to help, Tom. Do
it--please? Just stay clear?"
Tommy reached out and caught his arm. "Okay," he said reluctantly, "I
will. But you be careful," he added fiercely. "You hear me? And if I
don't hear from you in some reasonable time, I'll raise a stink from
here to Vega!"
Bart broke away and ran. He was afraid, if he didn't, he'd break up
again. He closed the cabin door behind him, trying to calm down so that
the Mentorian steward, coming to strap him in for deceleration, wouldn't
see how upset he was. He was going to need all his nerve.
* * * * * He went through another decontamination chamber, and finally moved, with
a line of passengers, out of the yawning airlock, under the strange sun,
into the strange world.
At first sight it was a disappointment. It was a Lhari spaceport that
lay before him, to all appearances identical with the one on Earth:
sloping glass ramps, tall colorless pylons, a skyscraper terminus
crowded with men of all planets. But the sun overhead was brilliant and
clear gold, the shadows sharp and violet on the spaceport floor. Behind
the confines of the spaceport he could see the ridges of tall hills and
unfamiliarly colored trees. He longed to explore them, but he got a grip
on his imagination, surrendering his ticket stub and false papers to the
Lhari and Mentorian interpreter who guarded the ramp.