"It is all right," she appeared to murmur. "Go on."
Michel Drawers stepped back to the controls. There was an air of resolute determination about him. His enormous fingers manipulated the proper switches with unbelievable skill and speed. The petite little "Star-Struck" swerved on her course and turned in a semicircle that encompassed millions of miles.
Michel Drawers' mind was comprehending things he had never fully realized before. Trajores must never be taken to Earth. She must be returned to her own world with its kinder gravitation and its lovable golden people. To take her to Earth would be to doom her to a life of indescribable suffering.
And, too, what would he be on Earth? They would grant him permission to marry, to settle down and live his life a useless cog in society, simply because he had been fortunate enough to return with a large supply of the precious Roxite, not because of what he, himself, was or had been.
But with the golden people he was not simply a useless hulk of a man. He was Michel Drawers, the man who had introduced the most startling innovations the golden people had known in thousands of years! A man who could hold his head high and look another person squarely in the face. The only man who might rid the planet of the dread Griffs and restore a beleaguered people to their rightful heritage.
Back in the golden city of Saeve no thought of his mental inferiority was entertained. All treated him with respect. It was a world where for the first time in his life he had found some measure of happiness, and possibly there might also be contentment.
The shimmering world began to take form beneath them.
Trajores moved and thought, "Michel, that is not the way back."
And Michel Drawers smiled within himself and answered joyously.
"Yes, Trajores, that _is_ the way back--the only way for you and me."