And then the preliminaries got over with. The fuel was in the rocket and the men ran away from it on the ground like ants running lickety from a metal god and the Dream woke up and gave a yell and jumped into the sky. And then it was gone, all the vacuum shouting of it, leaving nothing but a hot trembling in the air, through the ground, and up our legs to our hearts. Where it had been was a blazed, seared pock and a fog of rocket smoke like a cumulus cloud banked low.
"It's gone!" yelled Priory.
And we all began to breathe fast again, frozen there on the ground as if stunned by the passing of a gigantic paralysis gun. "I want to grow up quick," I said, then. "I want to grow up quick so I can take that rocket " I bit my lips. I was so darned young, and you cannot apply for space work. You have to be chosen.
Chosen.
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