Sure," someone said.

"Well, if you'll notice," Russell said, "the one on the left also now
has a red rim around it. Can't you guys see that?"

"Yeah, I see it," Alvar said.

"So now," Johnson said, "there's two suns with red rims around them."

"We're about in the middle of those four suns aren't we, Dunbar?"
Russell said.

"That's right, boys!" yelled old Dunbar in that sickeningly optimistic
voice. Like a hysterical old woman's. "Just about in the sweet dark
old middle."

"You're still sure it's the sun up ahead ... that's the only one with
life on it, Dunbar ... the only one we can live on?" Russell asked.

"That's right! That's right," Dunbar yelled. "That's the only one--and
it's a paradise. Not just a place to live, boys--but a place you'll
have trouble believing in because it's like a dream!"

"And none of these other three suns have worlds we could live on,
Dunbar?" Russell asked. Keep the old duck talking like this and maybe
Alvar and Johnson would see that he was cracked.

"Yeah," said Alvar. "You still say that, Dunbar?"

"No life, boys, nothing," Dunbar laughed. "Nothing on these other
worlds but ashes ... just ashes and iron and dried blood, dried a
million years or more."

"When in hell were you ever here?" Johnson said. "You say you were
here before. You never said when, or why or anything!"

"It was a long time back boys. Don't remember too well, but it was
when we had an old ship called the DOG STAR that I was here. A pirate
ship and I was second in command, and we came through this sector.
That was--hell, it musta' been fifty years ago. I been too many places
nobody's ever bothered to name or chart, to remember where it is, but
I been here. I remember those four suns all spotted to form a perfect
circle from this point, with us squarely in the middle. We explored
all these suns and the worlds that go round 'em. Trust me, boys, and
we'll reach the right one. And that one's just like Paradise."

"Paradise is it," Russell whispered hoarsely.

"Paradise and there we'll be like gods, like Mercuries with wings
flying on nights of sweet song. These other suns, don't let them
bother you. They're Jezebels of stars. All painted up in the darkness
and pretty and waiting and calling and lying! They make you think of
nice green worlds all running waters and dews and forests thick as
fleas on a wet dog. But it ain't there, boys. I know this place. I
been here, long time back."

Russell said tight