THE STARS ARE OURS

"What's your verdict?" Hogan wanted to know when they joined him bending over their capture. "Do we eat that, or don't we?"

"Give me but a few minutes and some aid in the laboratory and I shall have an answer to that. But this is close to Terran life. So it may be edible. And what were you watching by the cliffs-more dragons?"

"Just passing the time of day with another, breakfasting party," Hogan told him, and went on to explain about the duck-dogs.

It was worth waiting for Kordov's verdict, Dard thought later, as he savored the white flakes of meat, grilled under Kordov's supervision, and portioned out to the hungry and none-too-patient crew.

"At least we can chalk old pot-belly up on our bill of fare," observed Rogan.

"But finding this one may only be a fluke. It's a deep-water fish and we won't have storms to drive such ashore every day," Kimber pointed out.

He explored his lips with his tongue and then studied the empty plastic plate he held wistfully. "We can, however, look around for another stranded one.

Cully unfolded long legs. "We'll take out the sled now?"

"The wind has died down-I'd say it was safe. And," the pilot turned to Kordov, "how about rousing Santee and Harmon-we're going to need them."

The First Scientist agreed. "But first Carlee, as a doctor. And then we shall bring out the others. You are leaving soon?"

"We'll tell you before we go. And we don't intend to go far. Maybe a turn into that valley up ahead, and then along the shore for a mile or so. We may have landed in a wilderness-indications point to that-but I want to be sure.

Until a sun breaking through the clouds overhead said it was noon they were hard at work. The sled, Dard discovered, was just what its name implied, a flat vehicle possessing two seats each wide enough for two passengers, with a space behind for supplies. He helped to assemble the larger sections while Kimber and Gully sweated and swore over the business of installing the engine.

It was a flying craft Dard realized, but totally unlike a 'copter or rocket, and he did not see what would make it air borne without blades or tubes. When he said as much to Rogan the techneer leaned back against a convenient sand dune to combine rest and explanation.

"I can't tell you how it works, kid. The principle's something really new. They whipped that engine together during the last months we were in the Cleft. But it's some sort of anti-gravity. Takes you up and keeps you there until you shut it off. Broadcasts a beam which sends you along by pushing against the earth. If they had had the time they might have powered the ship with it. But there was only this one experimental sled built and we had to depend upon power we knew more about. How about it, Sim? Getting her together?"

The pilot smiled through a streak of grease which turned his brown skin black.

"Tighten that one bolt, Cully," he pointed out the necessary adjustment, "and, she's ready to lift! Or at least she should be. We'll try her."

He boarded the shallow craft and settled himself behind the controls, buckling a safety belt around his hips before he triggered the motor. The sled zoomed straight up with a speed which sent the spectators sprawling and tore an exclamation from the pilot. Then, under Kimber's expert hand, it leveled off and swung in a wide circle about the star ship. Finishing off the test flight with a figure eight, Kimber brought the sled back to a slow and studied landing on the now dry sand at the foot of the ramp.

"Bravo!"

That encouraging cheer came from the open hatch.

Kordov beamed down at them and with him, one hand on the rail, her head lifted so that the sun made a red-glory of the braids wreathing it, was a woman. Dard stared up at her with no thought of rudeness. This was the Carlee who had taken care of Dessie.

But she was younger than he had expected, younger and somehow fragile. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes, and when she smiled at them, it was with a patient acceptance, which hurt. Kimber broke the silence as she joined the party below.

"What do you think, Carlee?" he asked matter-of-factly, as if they had parted only the hour before and no tragedy lay between. "Would you trust yourself to this crazy flyer?"

"With the right pilot at the controls, yes." And then looking at each one she spoke their names slowly as if reassuring herself that they were really there. "Les Rogan, Jorge Cully and"-She reached Dard, hesitated, before her smile brightened-"why, you must be Dessie's Dard, Dard Nordis! Oh, this is good-so good-" She looked beyond the men at the cliffs, the sea, the blue-green sky arching over them.

"Now- before you start off, explorers," Kordov announced, "there is food to be eaten."

The food was fish again, together with quarter portions of the concentrate cakes and some capsules Kordov insisted they take. When they were finished the First Scientist turned to Kimber.

"Now that you have that sky-buggy of yours put together you will be off?"