eft, and it was dwindling swiftly.
But our time was passing even more rapidly.

The bit of rock loomed up at me from the disc. It seemed to fly up
into my face, to meet me.

"Got us, Correy!" I said hoarsely. "Good-by, old-man!"

I think he tried to reply. I saw his lips open; the flash of the
bright light from the ethon tubes on his big white teeth.

Then there was a crash that shook the whole ship. I shot into the air.
I remember falling ... terribly.

A blinding flash of light that emanated from the very center of my
brain, a sickening sense of utter catastrophe, and ... blackness.

* * * * *

I think I was conscious several seconds before I finally opened my
eyes. My mind was still wandering; my thoughts kept flying around in
huge circles that kept closing in.

We had hit the meteorite. I remembered the crash. I remembered
falling. I remembered striking my head.

But I was still alive. There was air to breathe and there was firm
material under me. I opened my eyes.

For the first instant, it seemed I was in an utterly strange room.
Nothing was familiar. Everything was--was _inverted_. Then I glanced
upward, and I saw what had happened.

I was lying on the ceiling of the navigating room. Over my head were
the charts, still glowing, the chronometers in their gimballed beds,
and the television disc. Beside me, sprawled out limply, was Correy, a
trickle of dried blood on his cheek. A litter of papers, chairs,
framed licenses and other movable objects were strewn on and around
us.

My first instinctive, foolish thought was that the ship was upside
down. Man has a ground-trained mind, no matter how many years he may
travel space. Then, of course, I realized that in the open void there
is not top nor bottom; the illusion is supplied, in space ships, by
the gravity pads. Somehow, the shock of impact had reversed the
polarity of the leads to the pads, and they had become repulsion pads.
That was why I had dropped from the floor to the ceiling.

All this flashed through my mind in an instant as I dragged myself
toward Correy. Dragged myself because my head was throbbing so that I
dared not stand up, and one shoulder, my left, was numb.

* * * * *

For an instant I thought that Correy was dead. Then, as I bent over
him, I saw a pulse leaping just under the angle of his jaw.

"Correy, old man!" I whispered. "Do you hear me?" All the formality of