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the air, still smiling. But everything was soon under control. Soon the red takeoff light came on.
    ‘This is the voice of your captain, Eddie Remonstrator,’ said a pleasant Midwestern voice over the public address system. ‘We are in takeoff configuration now, ladies and gentlemen, and it may be of interest if I describe the procedure, since that is the trickiest part of the whole trip. Now then: the port and starboard searcher probes are extended on full and going through their ninety-degree cycles. As you probably know from magazine articles, these sensors are searching the fabric of space for what are technically called Foster-Harris discontinuity areas, or FHda’s for short. These FHda’s are like a sort of hole in space, folks, only it might better be compared to a hole through two folds of fabric. You see, space has no substance, but it does have configuration. That was proven by Edkwiser and Braintree back in ’09, and it is what makes rapid interstellar flight possible. You must remember, however, that spatial configuration exists only on a single order of magnitude.
    ‘Now, finding a suitable FHda. … Excuse me a moment, folks. … Okay, I’m back now. Our starboard sensor just came up with a fat one, and I’m just about to ease this little old ship right into the FHda helix – because it isn’t really a hole , folks. It can be best visualized as a hollow tube twisted into a helical shape, and us as going into that tube. Spatial configuration always follows helical routes, except in the vicinity of gray stars. That’s Von Gresham’s Law.
    ‘Okay, we’re approaching it now, folks. Soon our ship will be flowing smoothly along the helical path that in n-dimensional space describes a straight line. We’re approaching. … Ease her to starboard, chief bosun. That’s it, steady as she goes. … Guide by the flare line along the outer orifice. … Just a touch more left rudder. … Now meet her, meet her. … Steer small, damn you! Trim those cephoid flaps back to zero! Reset the tabulating skin surface totalizer to zero zero niner! Retract the sponge antenna! Give me seven degrees on the bivalvular de-quenching remoulade!’ (Here the captain’s voice became indistinct, and his words blurry and capable of misinterpretation.) ‘Okay, now the drumhead marshtide ripcurrent is closing fast! Give me a tune on the fiddle!’ (That couldn’t be right, Crompton thought: he must have heard wrong.) ‘Now take a turn around the double avunculars and collapse the spread-fragment tourniquet glide-runners! Watch the drag-timer, it’s gaining turbulent-spontaneity! There we go! Now trim ballast and it’s downhill all the way!’
    There was a moment of silence. Then the captain said, ‘Well, folks, there you are, a blow by blow account of how a star ship gets going. We’ll be traveling through the FHda helix for some twenty hours of subjective time, so relax and get comfortable. Our hostesses will now be taking orders for psychedelics for those among you who want to spaceout while going through space. There is a movie in the forward lounge that sounds mighty good, something about Albert Dekker. Enjoy yourself, folks, this is Captain Eddie Remonstrator signing off.’
    Crompton rubbed his nose vigorously and wondered whether he was hearing things or if Captain Remonstrator was conducting himself in an unusual manner. Or a little of both, perhaps. …
    ‘Yes, actually, it is,’ the person in the seat next to Crompton remarked.
    ‘What is?’ Crompton asked.
    ‘A little of both.’
    ‘What are you talking about?’ Crompton asked.
    ‘I am referring to your last thought before this conversation began. You were wondering if you were hearing things or if Captain Remonstrator was behaving in an unusual manner. Then you thought perhaps it was a little of both, which is the correct answer, and refers to your instinctive understanding of the degree of variability possible on either side of the observer-observed