sand sprayed up, looking like a shellburst at sea . . .
I put down my head, hugged myself to the ground, and waited . . . She was, I guessed, nearly three miles away by now, but that was unpleasantly close for the kind of explosion I was expecting. I held my breath as I waited . . . and waited . . .
The explosion did not come.
At last, I looked up, cautiously. Of the Figurao herself I could see nothing. There was just a dust-cloud—with a red flare still burning steadily in the middle of it.
I went on waiting. Nothing happened except that the lighter dust was blown away, and the cloud grew smaller. After some more minutes I risked standing up. Scarcely taking my eyes from the spot, I made my way back to the platform. I found it half-buried in sand thrown up by the Figurao's blast, but it lifted all right, and the sand slid off as I tilted it and slid it away to a safer distance, to land again.
For over an hour I sat on the platform, watching. Gradually the loose sand and dust had been blown away, and I could see the silver glint of the ship herself, and the steady flame from her tubes.
I realized that somehow, perhaps on the first bounce, the main drive had been reduced to a pretty low power, or the ship would have gone a lot further and fared a lot worse, but I still did not know whether she was going to blow up or not—and, if not, how long the fuel would continue to burn at the present setting.
Perhaps Camilo had been able to check the power at the moment of the first bounce, but he could have had no chance after that. One could not imagine even strapped to the couch, as he would be, either he himself, or the gimbal system could have withstood what the Figurao had been through . . .
And at that thought I was suddenly swept by the terrifying realization that, whether the ship blew up or not, I was now alone . . .
Almost in the same moment I became aware again of the hostile desert all around. I began to feel the awfulness of utter desolation stalking in on me once more . . .
I pulled the two-man dome off the platform, and set it up. Flimsy though it was, one could find some illusion of protection inside it. The howling of the wilderness was not quite so close to my elbow; the
