Cimon fell back in his chair, chewing his lip.
Novee said to Mark, “I suppose the symptoms of beryllium poisoning-”
Mark said at once, “I can give you the full list. I don’t understand the words but-”
“Was one of them ‘dyspnea’?”
“Yes.”
“Novee sighed and said, “I say that we get back to Earth as quickly as possible and get under medical investigation.”
Cimon said weakly, “But if we won’t recover, what use is it?”
Novee said, “Medical science has advanced since the days of books printed on paper. Besides, we may not have received the toxic dose. The first settlers survived for over a year of continuous exposure. We’ve had only a month, thanks to Mark Annuncio’s quick and drastic action.”
Fawkes, miserably unhappy, yelled, “For space’ sake, Captain, get out of here and get this ship back to Earth.”
It amounted to the end of the trial. Sheffield and Mark walked out among the first.
Cimon was the last to stir out of his chair, and when he did, it was the listless gait of a man already dead in all but fact.
Twenty-Six
The Lagrange System was only a star lost in the receding cluster.
Sheffield looked at that large patch of light and said, “So beautiful a planet.” He sighed. “Well, let’s hope we live. In any case, the government will watch out for beryllium-high planets in the future. There’ll be no catching mankind with that particular variety of sucker bait any more.”
Mark did not respond to that idealism. The trial was over; the excitement was gone. There were tears in his eyes. He could only think that he might die; and that if he did, there were so many things, so many, many things in the Universe that he would never learn.