Privately Garrard did not faith as much, but he said, “Yes, we-they will make a new wooing of the beadernun-gen at some other radiant. With all of love.”
On this the beademungen made and pitched adorations, and in the midst the overdrive cut in. The ship with the many gift orifices and the being-Garrard him-other saw the twin radioceles sundered away.
Then, once more, came the pseudo-death.
4
When the small candle lit in the endless cavern of Garrard’s pseudo-dead mind, the DFC-3 was well inside the orbit of Uranus. Since the sun was still very small and distant, it made no spectacular display through the nearby port, and nothing called him from the post-death sleep for nearly two days.
The computers waited patiently for him. They were no longer immune to his control; he could now tool the ship back to Earth himself if he so desired. But the computers were also designed to take into account the fact that he might be truly dead by the time the DFC-3 got back. After giving him a solid week, during which time he did nothing but sleep, they took over again. Radio signals began to go out, tuned to a special channel.
An hour later, a very weak signal came back. It was only a directional signal, and it made no sound inside the DFC-3
but it was sufficient to put the big ship in motion again.
It was that which woke Garrard. His conscious mind was still glazed over with the icy spume of the pseudo-death; and as far as he could see the interior of the cabin had not changed one whit, except for the book on the deck The book. The clinesterton beademung had dropped it there. But what under God was a clinesterton beademung?