THE INTERIOR OF THE van was roomy, even allowing for the car. There were bunks, a table and chairs, a small refrigerator and cookstove. The driver, a lean saturnine man who seemed to be forever chewing gum, began to prepare coffee. The other sat down, whistling tunelessly. He was young and powerfully built, but his right arm ended in a prosthetic claw. All of them were dressed in inconspicuous civilian garb.
“Take us about ten hours, maybe,” said Berg. “The spaceship’s ‘way over in Colorado.”
He caught Lancaster’s blank stare, and grinned. “Yes, my friend, your lab is out in space. Surprised?”
“Mmm—yeah. I’ve never been off Earth.”
“Sokay. We run at acceleration, you won’t be spacesick.” Berg drew up a chair, sat down, and tilted it back against a wall. The steady rumble of engines pul
