As darkness faded, however, and as approaching dawn began to burn
its slow way up the stupendous vaults of space above the eastern
cloud-battlements--battlements flicked with dull crimson, blood-tinged
blotches, golden streaks and a whole phantasmagoria of shifting
hues--something of the oppression of night fell from the two men.
"Well, we're still carrying on. Things are still going pretty much
O.K., sir," proffered the major, squinting into the East--the cold,
red East, infinitely vast, empty, ripe with possibilities. "A good
start! Close to a thousand miles we've made; engines running to a
hair; men all fitting into the jobs like clockwork. Everything all
right to a dot, eh?"
The Master nodded silently, keeping dark eyes fixed on the horizon of
cloud-rack. Above, the last faint prickings of stars were fading. The
moon had paled to a ghostly circle. Shuddering, _Nissr_ fled, with
vapory horizons seemingly on her own level so that she appeared at the
bottom of an infinite bowl. Bohannan, feeling need of speech, tried to
be casual as he added:
"I don't feel sleepy. Do you? Seems like I'd never want to sleep
again. Faith, this _is_ living! You've got us all enthused.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149