"Next time you try this stunt, kid," the old space-dog was saying, "paint some identification on the hull. And install a radio, if you do nothing else."
Lanya crawled out of the bunk and approached the two speakers.
"Oho!" the burly space-policeman roared. "The little lady!" He became suddenly serious. "Don't you kids know that at the rate you were accelerating you wouldn't have come out of the fog until your fuel was gone and you were past Earth? If ever. I've been a space-pilot for twenty years but I don't think I could have taken that kind of acceleration for long."
Lanya looked silently at Virgil who seemed kind of sick.
"We thought the air-foam cushions in the cabin were enough. Besides I'm pretty tough."
"Ho ho! Tough, he says!" The red-headed man slapped his knee. "The next time you try it, install some gravity plates and don't expect to defy the laws of nature. You would have been in a fine pickle if the patrol hadn't spotted your flaring jets and put a scanner on you."
"I'm hungry," Lanya said suddenly.
The space-pilot laughed. "She's hungry! Say, you two didn't blast off on an empty stomach on top of everything else?" He groaned as Virgil nodded his head sheepishly.
Lanya accepted the big man's proffered hand and followed him into the galley. The fright and confusion left her as the pleasant savor of food filled her nostrils. She ate hungrily but with proper lady-like delicacy.
"Where are we going?" she asked.