Burt reached out for the stud that would fire the fore-rockets, but a small white hand already rested on the button. "Let me, Daddy. You promised—" When he wanted something, Johnny's voice took on that wailing quality. He wanted something now; Burt had promised him that he could land the ship. "Okay," Burt said. "Press it—now. Now!" Johnny took his hand off the stud. "Don't holler at me ," he told his father severely. Burt swore under his breath and jammed down on the stud. A red light overhead