s when a new sound tore through the
constant vibrating hum which filled the narrow corridors of the ship.
Raf stiffened, the icy touch of fear tensing his muscles. Was that the
red alarm of disaster?

His eyes went to the light at the end of the short passage. But no
blink of warning red shown there. Not danger--then what--?

It took him a full moment to realize what he had heard, not the signal
of doom, but the sound which was to herald the accomplishment of their
mission--the sound which unconsciously they had all given up any hope
of ever hearing. They had made it!

The pilot leaned weakly against the wall, and his eyes smarted, his
hands were trembling. In that moment he knew that he had never really,
honestly, believed that they would succeed. But they had! _RS 10_ had
reached the stars!

"Strap down for turnout--strap down for turnout--!" The disembodied
voice screaming through the ship's speecher was that of Captain
Hobart, but it was almost unrecognizable with emotion. Raf turned and
stumbled back to his cabin, staggered to throw himself once more on
his pad as he fumbled with the straps he must buckle over him.

He heard rather than saw Wonstead blunder in to follow his example,
and for the first time in months the other was dumb, not uttering a
word as he stowed away for the breakthrough which should take them
back into normal space and the star worlds. Raf tore a nail on a
fastening, muttered.

"Condition red--condition red--Strap down for breakthrough--" Hobart
chanted at them from the walls. "One, two, three"--the count swung on
numeral by numeral; then--"ten--Stand by--"

Raf had forgotten what breakthrough was like. He had gone through it
the first time when still under take-off sedation. But this was worse
than he remembered, so much worse. He tried to scream out his protest
against the torture which twisted mind and body, but he could not
utter even a weak cry. This, this was unbearable--a man could go mad
or die--die--die....

He aroused with the flat sweetness of blood on his tongue, a splitting
pain behind the eyes he tried to focus on the too familiar scrap of
wall. A voice boomed, receded, and boomed again, filling the air and
at last making sense, in it a ring of wild triumph!

"Made it! This is it, men, we've made it; Sol-class sun--three
planets. We'll set an orbit in--"

Raf licked his lips. It was still too much to swallow in one mental
gulp. So, they had made it--half of their ve