Wofforth winced. "Gone," he said. "That's right. I didn't stop to think. You said forty hours.... They couldn't wait that long. We're past opposition already, getting farther away all the time. They had to go, or they wouldn't have made it."
He stood up uncertainly and reached for his ripped tunic. Corbett stepped over and helped him slide his uninjured arm into the right sleeve, then to fasten and drape the tunic over his splinted left arm and shoulder.
"We'll just have to get back to Base Camp and wait," said Wofforth grimly.
"Sir," said Jenks, "our radio is gone. I tried to patch it up, but it was gone. When they didn't get a signal, they must have thought—"
"Nonsense!" Wofforth broke in. "They'll have left us supplies. They couldn't wait, signal or none. Our job is to get back, and stick it out there until they come for us."
He sat at the control and began to write in the log book. Corbett and Jenks drifted together at the other end of the room.
"You meat-head," snarled Jenks under his breath. "You knew he took the berth to Pluto because the first mate was a lady—Lya Stromminger."
"He had to know they were gone," protested Corbett, equally fierce.
"Not flat like you gave it. He came here to be with her. Now she's jetted away without him. How does a man feel when a woman's done that—"
"Stop blathering, you two, and help me into my suit," called Wofforth, rising again. "We're going to rev up that sled engine and get out of here!"