With the most natural gesture in the world he extended his hand. In turn Yancey and Will gripped it. He stepped through the hull with a farewell wave.
"Commons room—ready ship!"
"Yes, Officer!"
"One hundred eighty degrees!"
"Yes, Officer!"
"And full speed—cut!"
"Cut!"
Close together they contemplated the golden-skinned Madame Tung.
"Everything has its cost," said Will.
Yancey said nothing.
Unrelieved blackness alternated with dazzling star-clusters; from rim to rim of the universe stretched the thin line that marked the hero's way.