"How the hell can we do anything else?
We haven't any control over this bird we're on.

But she has.

What she meant, Ventnor, is that it would follow her." "That's true"-- new hope softened the haggard face--"that's true--but is it?
We're reckoning with creatures that man's imagination never conceived--nor could conceive.

And with this--woman--human in shape, yes, but human in thought--never.

How then can we tell--" He turned once more, all his consciousness concentrated in his searching eyes.
Drake's rifle slipped from his hand.
He stooped to pick it up; then tugged with both hands.