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Ryan, our youngest child and only son, my little boy, was gone. I held his limp form against my chest tightly, rocking back and forth in the chair automatically, not sure who or what that rocking motion was supposed to comfort or ease…in any case, it didn’t work. But then, in that moment, nothing could. Barbara was holding our now crying daughters, trying to get emotionally ahold of herself enough to comfort and tend to them as I absorbed the full shock of this most unwelcome and unexpected, devastating news. I kissed his head as I cried and sobbed. He was still warm as if alive to my reassurance-seeking lips, the warmth of him giving my stunned brain some temporary false hope that this awful moment’s news was all some sort of horrid mistake. I soon gathered enough control of myself to ask his CICU nurse, who was still standing by right with us, some of her own tears running down her face at the tableau before her, what had happened. She haltingly explained that she had observed Ryan. "We may just strand him on some really far-out world,some place non-technical where he won't be able to get back and give us any trouble." I imagine that he's feeling pretty desperate by now," Phil mused. "He's got to know that we're closing in on him."The tension mounted as they waited for word from their searching portals. Finally, as the local day wore on toward evening, a buzzer by Neal's chair startled them into alertness."Marten here." He pressed a button set into the edgeof the table."Magnetic pulsations on world nineteen," a voice from the room's speakers informed them. "Closing in on the site now." We'll be right there." Neal pushed his chair back abruptly. "All right, let's go see what kind of fish we've caught."A silent elevator took them swiftly to the building's lower level where the mighty portal machines were housed. Most of the hundred or so mechanisms that sprawled across the expanse of floor were silent, unattended for the moment to reduce any possible interference..
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