to say. He rather hoped that this blankness of mind would
last; maybe the passengers would gather that he was aloof by
nature, and . . . But the silence at the captain’s table was
becoming noticeable, especially against the noise the children
were making elsewhere. Next door, Hammersmith appeared
to be telling stories.
And what stories! Arpe knew very little about the satellites,
but he was somehow quite sure that there were no snow
tigers on Titan who gnawed away the foundations of build-
ings, nor any three-eyed natives who relished frozen man-
meat warmed just until its fluids changed from Ice IV to Ice
III. If there were, it was odd that Hammersmith’s own book
about the Titan expedition had mentioned neither. But the
explorer was making Arpe’s silence even more conspicuous;
he had to say something.
“Miss Gospardiwe’re honored to have you with us. You
have a husband among the First Expedition, I suppose?”
“Yes, worse luck,” she said, gnawing with even white teeth
at a drumstick. “My fifth.”
“Oh. Well, if at first you don’t succeedisn’t that how it
goes? You’re undertaking quite a journey to be with him again.
I’m glad you feel so certain now.”
“I’m certain,” she said calmly. “It’s a long trip, all right.
But he made a big mistake when he thought ifd be too long
for me.”
The thirteen-year-old was watching her like an owl. It
looked like a humid night for him.
“Of course, Titan’s been tamed down considerably since
my time,” Hammersmith was booming jovially. “I’m told the
new dome there is almost cozy, except for the wind. That