“Look at it,” Major Siller whispered. “Nothing at all like our own ships. What makes it run?”

“No drive jets,” Commander Carmichel said. “Only landing jets to set her down. What makes her go?”

The Ganymedean globe rested quietly in the center of the Terran Experimental laboratory, rising up from the circle of men like a great bubble. It was a beautiful ship, glimmering with an even metallic fire, shimmering and radiating a cold light.

“It gives you a strange feeling,” General Groves said. Suddenly he caught his breath. “You don’t suppose this—this could be a gravity drive ship? The Ganys were supposed to be experimenting with gravity.”

“What’s that?” Basset said.

“A gravity drive ship would reach its destination without time lapse. The velocity of gravity is infinite. Can’t be measured. If this globe is—”

“Nonsense,” Carmichel said. “Einstein showed gravity isn’t a force but a warpage, a space warpage.”

“But couldn’t a ship be built using—”

“Gentlemen!” The Senate Leader came quickly into the laboratory, surrounded by his guards. “Is this the ship? This globe?” The officers pulled back and the Senate Leader went gingerly up to the great gleaming side. He touched it.

“It’s undamaged,” Siller said. “They’re translating the control markings so we can use it.”

“So this is the Ganymedean ship. Will it help us?”

“We don’t know yet,” Carmichel said.

“Here come the think-men,” Groves said. The hatch of the globe had opened, and two men in white lab uniforms were stepping carefully down, carrying a semantibox.

“What are the results?” the Senate Leader asked.

“We’ve made the translations. A Terran crew could operate the ship now. All the controls are marked.”

“We should make a study of the engines before we try the ship out,” Doctor Basset said. “What do we know about it? We don’t know what makes it run, or what fuel it uses.”

“How long will such a study take?” the Leader asked.

“Several days, at least,” Carmichel said.

“That long?”

“There’s no telling what we’ll run into. We may find a radically new type of drive and fuel. It might even take several weeks to finish the analysis.”

The Senate Leader pondered.

“Sir,” Carmichel said, “I think we should go ahead and have a test run. We can easily raise a volunteer crew.”

“A trial run could begin at once,” Groves said. “But we might have to wait weeks for the drive analysis.”

“You believe a complete crew would volunteer?”

Carmichel rubbed his hands together. “Don’t worry about that. Four men would do it. Three, outside of me.”

“Two,” General Groves said. “Count me in.”

“How about me, sir?” Major Siller asked hopefully.

Doctor Basset pushed up nervously. “Is it all right for a civilian to volunteer? I’m curious as hell about this.”

The Senate Leader smiled. “Why not? If you can be of use, go along. So the crew is already here.”

The four men grinned at each other.

“Well?” Groves said. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get her started!”

The linguist traced a meter reading with his finger. “You can see the Gany markings. Next to each we’ve put the Terran equivalent. There’s one hitch, though. We know the Gany word for, say, five. Zahf. So where we find zahf wemark a five for you. See this dial? Where the arrow’s at nesi? At zero. See how it’s marked?”

100 = liw

50 = ka

5 = zahf

0 = nesi

5 = zahf

50 = ka

100 = liw

Carmichel nodded. “So?”

“This is the problem. We don’t know what the units refer to. Five, but five what? Fifty, but fifty what? Presumably velocity. Or is it distance? Since no study has been made of the workings of this ship—”

“You can’t interpret?”

“How?” The linguist tapped a switch. “Obviously, this throws the drive on. Mel—start. You close the switch and it indicates io—stop. But how you guide the ship is a different matter. We can’t tell you what the meter is for.”

Groves touched a wheel. “Doesn’t this guide her?”

“It governs the brake rockets, the landing jets. As for the central drive we don’t know what it is or how you control it, once you’re started. Semantics won’t help you. Only experience. We can translate numbers only into numbers.”

Groves and Carmichel looked at each other.

“Well?” Groves said. “We may find ourselves lost in space. Or falling into the sun. I saw a ship spiral into the sun, once. Faster and faster, down and down—”

“We’re a long way from the sun. And we’ll point her out, toward Pluto. We’ll get control eventually. You don’t want to unvolunteer, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“How about the rest of you?” Carmichel said, to Basset and Siller. “You’re still coming along?”

“Certainly.” Basset was stepping cautiously into his spacesuit. “We’re coming.”

“Make sure you seal your helmet completely.” Carmichel helped him fasten his leggings. “Your shoes, next.”

“Commander,” Groves said, “they’re finishing on the vidscreen. I wanted it installed so we could establish contact. We might need some help getting back.”

“Good idea.” Carmichel went over, examining the leads from the screen. “Self-contained power unit?”

“For safety’s sake. Independent from the ship.”

Carmichel sat down before the vidscreen, clicking it on. The local monitor appeared. “Get me the Garrison Station on Mars. Commander Vecchi.”

The call locked through. Carmichel began to lace his boots and leggings while he waited. He was lowering his helmet into place when the screen I glowed into life. Vecchi’s dark features formed, lean-jawed above his scarlet uniform.

“Greetings, Commander Carmichel,” he murmured. He glanced curiously at Carmichel’s suit. “You are going on a trip, Commander?”

“We may visit you. We’re about to take the captured Gany ship up. If everything goes right I hope to set her down at your field, sometime later today.”

“We’ll have the field cleared and ready for you.”

“Better have emergency equipment on hand. We’re still unsure of the controls.”

“I wish you luck.” Vecchi’s eyes flickered. “I can see the interior of your ship. What drive is it?”

“We don’t know yet. That’s the problem.”

“I hope you will be able to land, Commander.”

“Thanks. So do we.” Carmichel broke the connection. Groves and Siller were already dressed. They were helping Basset tighten the screw locks of his earphones.

“We’re ready,” Groves said. He looked through the port. Outside a circle of officers watched silently.

“Say good-bye,” Siller said to Basset. “This may be our last minute on Terra.”

“Is there really much danger?”

Groves sat down beside Carmichel at the control board. “Ready?” His voice came to Carmichel through his phones.

“Ready.” Carmichel reached out his gloved hand, toward the switch marked mel. “Here we go. Hold on tight!”

He grasped the switch firmly and pulled.

They were falling through space.

“Help!” Doctor Basset shouted. He slid across the up-ended floor, crashing against a table. Carmichel and Groves hung on grimly, trying to keep their places at the board.

The globe was spinning and dropping, settling lower and lower through a heavy sheet of rain. Below them, visible through the port, was a vast rolling ocean, an endless expanse of blue water, as far as the eye could see. Siller stared down at it, on his hands and knees, sliding with the globe.

“Commander, where—where should we be?”

“Someplace off Mars. But this can’t be Mars!”

Groves flipped the brake rocket switches, one after another. The globe shuddered as the rockets came on, bursting into life around them.

“Easy does it,” Carmichel said, craning his neck to see through the port. “Ocean? What the hell—”