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before?”
    I admitted I hadn't; she said, “Better take it.”
    I said I was a licensed air pilot; I wouldn't get sick I didn't tell her that my license was just for copters. She shrugged and turned away. A loudspeaker said, “The Daedalus is cleared for blasting.” I moved up to get a good view.
    The Daedalus was about a quarter of a mile away and stood up higher than we did. She had fine lines and was a mighty pretty sight, gleaming in the morning sunshine. Beyond her and to the right, clear out at the edge of the field, a light shone green at the traffic control blockhouse.
    She canted slowly over to the south, just a few degrees.
    Fire burst out of her base, orange, and then blinding white. It splashed down into the ground baffles and curled back up through the ground vents. She lifted.
    She hung there for a breath and you could see the hills shimmer through her jet. And she was gone.
    Just like that—she was gone. She went up out of there like a scared bird, just a pencil of white fire in the sky, and was gone while we could still hear and feel the thunder of her jets inside the compartment.
    My ears were ringing. I heard someone behind me say, “But I haven't had breakfast. The Captain will just have to wait. Tell him, Joseph.”
    It was the woman who hadn't known that the Mayflower was a space-to-space ship. Her husband tried to hush her up, but he didn't have any luck. She called over the stewardess. I heard her answer, “But, madam, you can't speak to the Captain now. He's preparing for blast-off.”
    Apparently that didn't make any difference. The stewardess finally got her quiet by solemnly promising that she could have breakfast after blast-off. I bent my ears at that and I decided to put in a bid for breakfast, too.
    The Icarus took off twenty minutes later and then the speaker said, “All hands! Acceleration stations–prepare to blast off.” I went back to my couch and the stewardess made sure that we were all strapped down. She cautioned us not to unstrap until she said we could. She went down to the deck below.
    I felt my ears pop and there was a soft sighing in the ship. I swallowed and kept swallowing. I knew what they were doing: blowing the natural air out and replacing it with the standard helium-oxygen mix at half sea-level pressure. But the woman—the same one—didn't like it. She said, “Joseph, my head aches. Joseph, I can't breathe. Do something!”
    Then she clawed at her straps and sat up. Her husband sat up, too, and forced her back down.
    The Bifrost tilted over a little and the speaker said, “Minus three minutes!”
    After a long time it said, “Minus two minutes!”
    And then “Minus one minutel” and another voice took up the count:
    “Fifty-nine! Fifty-eight! Fifty-seven!”
    My heart started to pound so hard I could hardly hear it. But it went on: “-thirty-five! Thirty-four! Thirty-three! Thirty-two! Thirty-one! Half! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!”
    And it got to be: “Ten!”
    And “Nine!”
    “Eight!
    “Seven!
    “And six!
    “And five!
    “And four!
    “And three!
    “And two—”
    I never did hear them say “one” or “fire” or whatever they said. About then something fell on me and I thought I was licked. Once, exploring a cave with the fellows, a bank collapsed on me and I had to be dug out. It was like that—but nobody dug me out.
    My chest hurt My ribs seemed about to break. I couldn't lift a finger. I gulped and couldn't get my breath.
    I wasn't scared, not really, because I knew we would take off with a high g, but I was awfully uncomfortable. I managed to turn my head a little and saw that the sky was already purple. While I watched, it turned black and the stars came out, millions of stars. And yet the Sun was still streaming in through the port
    The roar of the jets was unbelievable but the noise started to die out almost at once and soon you couldn't hear it at all. They say the old ships used to be noisy even after you passed the speed of sound;