Bart sprang up. "No," he said, "I know a better way. Let me go on the

Swiftwing--in Dad's place--as a Lhari!"

"Bart, no," Raynor Three said. "You'd never get away with it. It's too

dangerous." But his gold eyes glinted.

"Why not? I speak Lhari better than Dad ever did. And my eyes can stand

Lhari lights. You said yourself, it's going to be a dangerous job just

calling off all the arrangements. So let's not call them off. Just let

me take Dad's place!"

"Bart, you're only a boy--"

"What was Dave Briscoe? No, Raynor. Dad left me a lot more than Vega

Interplanet, and you know it. I'll finish what he started, and then

maybe I'll begin to deserve what he left me."

Raynor Three gripped Bart's hand. He said, in a voice that shook, "All

right, Bart. You're your father's son. I can't say more than that. I

haven't any right to stop you."




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