 What would happen if they didn’t change course?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories November 1952. The curve met another straight bulkhead on the left. The mesh-covered hole and the two lights looked like a caricature of a face, set in a panel of dials. How do you describe being weightless when you are born into a world bound by gravity. There was no sensation of place, no feeling of up or down, no direction. That I was floating in a room that had a curved wall ... that nothing was right in this hostile room? The name meant nothing to me, but I thought about it, watching the relentless lights that shone below the dials. After the first shock of looking out, I accepted the fact that I was in a space ship, yet I couldn't read the maps that were fastened to a table, nor understand the function or design of the compact machinery. Now it must tell me why I didn't. It was the only thing I saw that could help me, guard me against another shock like seeing outside of the clear portholes. He was as still as death, motionless without warmth or breath as I hovered over him. The eyelid remained open until I closed it and went on. I dared not try to operate anything. Everything lay in readiness, fastened down star charts, instruments, glittering equipment. It waited for human hands to make it operate. The ports on the side were shielded and I stared out at static energy, hung motionless in a world of searing light. There was no distortion, no movement outside and I glanced back at the dials. What speeds and perhaps, what distance? They stood for anything I might guess, and something kept pricking my mind, telling me I had no time to guess. I was supposed to act according to ... plan. Did that mean ... in time ... in time. Four people in all, depending on a blind helpless fool who didn't know their names or the reason for that dependence. I went from the nose to the last bulkhead in a frenzy of floating motion, looking behind each door until I went as far as I could. They both ended in the lead shield that was set where the swell of the curve was biggest. It meant the engine or engines took up half the ship, cut off from the forward half by the instrument studded shield. I had literally been reborn in this room, equipped with half ideas, and no point to start from, no premise to seek.
 They would crash into the yellow-white star.
 They would run out of oxygen before landing.  They would crash into the yellow-white star.  They would be thrown out of the sun’s orbit.  They would die before arriving back to Earth.