But when the stars steadied and took on their own colors, the blaze of a
small green sun was steady in the viewport.
"Meristem," Vorongil said, taking the controls himself. "Let's hope the
place is really uninhabited and that catalogue's up to date, lads. It
wouldn't be any fun to burn up some harmless village, or get shot at by
barbarians--and we're setting down with no control-tower signals and no
spaceport repair crews. So let's hope our luck holds out for a while
yet."
Bart, feeling the minute, unsteady trembling somewhere in the
ship--Imagination, he told himself, you can't feel metal-fatigue
somewhere in the hull lining--echoed the wish. He did not know that he
had already had the best luck of his unique voyage, or realize the
fantastic luck that had brought him to the small green star Meristem.