Noel M. Loomis

“ Braniff could have been very fond of the Old Man if the Old Man had been human. All the staff officers felt that way. The Old Man was always alone, distant, unmoved by anybody else's troubles.
Yes, Admiral Gorthy undoubtedly would give the first promotion to Lt. Stevens, and there were not many promotions on a single cruise. Spacemen were physically perfect, and they didn't often die. They couldn't resign, they couldn't be transferred. Somehow, the life of a space officer was not as glamorous as Lt. Braniff had thought it would be. ”

“ Stevens stood up and slipped into his jacket, took a last look at himself in the mirror. "Come on, let's move. This may be the only action of ten years in space."
Admiral Gorthy was on deck when they got back, with his grizzled face watching the ship on the plate. It was now fairly plain as a space-ship, but it was shaped more like a sphere than the Parsec.
"The idiot!" growled Admiral Gorthy. "Why doesn't he stop? Doesn't he know we can catch him?"
"He acts," said the junior admiral, "like some sort of alien intelligence. He may not figure as we do. ”

“ Why was Stevens so ready to blast a man—or a robot, either—just to grab off a promotion? And why must he shoot a helpless robot in the back?
Braniff wheeled. His right fist, encased in flexible beryllium, came up hard against Lt. Stevens' bubble. He saw Stevens' head snap back, then Stevens turned, with a look of amazement on his face. He stared an instant at Braniff and then he changed hands on the gun and hit back.
The blow jarred Braniff to the bottom of his spine. The bubble seemed to try to lift his head off. They closed. Stevens tried to bring the gun to bear on Braniff's head. ”

“ The galaxy needs sentiment—not in the Space Service; we don't dare show it here. But your memory in the hearts of one generation of your family is worth more than a million years in rock. Remember that! When you get back to Earth, get out of it. You're too soft!" he said harshly. "You don't belong in the Space Service! I'd send you home now if there were enough fuel!"
He stalked back to the boat. Lt. Braniff watched him a moment with a softness in his chest, then he followed.
They got in and took off. They reached the Junior. Admiral Gorthy took his place at the screen. ”

“ The Parsec was so immense that a man could die in one end and be buried in space, and those on the other end wouldn't know it until they read it in their daily Space Traveler. She was a 41.261 A.D. model, only four years old, and aside from fuel she was theoretically capable of sustaining herself in space for a thousand years—which is just what young Lt. Jim Braniff was afraid she was going to do. ”

“ Braniff sighed wearily. "Oh, he'll step in and tell them to go back to work or go without food. Sometimes I think the Old Man hasn't any feelings at all."
Stevens stared at him. Stevens was a handsome, dark-haired, glossy-eyebrowed young man who always seemed to be imbued with the recklessness of space.
"Homesickness eating on you again?" He snorted. "Why don't you go take a walk? There are some very nice girls over in the Kitchens."
"It's too far," Braniff said listlessly.
"You can catch a ride on the truck—if you want to." Stevens tossed his trim space jacket on the bed. ”

“ The admiral was studying a sky map. "I think, Captain, we'll set a new course when we get back on board the Parsec. I'd like to take a run over toward the One Supergalaxy and see if I can pick up a clue as to where Zhute got all this americium. There must be a new galaxy opening up somewhere." He wheeled on Braniff. "What the devil are you waiting on, Lieutenant? Get going!" ”

“ Stevens in Number Two. If there is any resistance whatever, use the omega-ray."
"Yes, sir." Lt. Braniff was thrilled. That was a drastic order; the omega-ray was a disintegrator at short range. It meant that Gorthy was alarmed. Lt. Braniff exulted momentarily. Perhaps if he turned in a good job on this, he would rate a promotion.
"If you can identify the captain as Zhute, the renegade robot, kill him without mercy. We can't stand on ceremony, when a wrong move might plunge a hundred billion solar systems into conflict. We'll stand by up here—but be careful!" ”

“ Now of course the reptiles are freed, and the foxes are on their own, but we do know that from somewhere they get periodic shipments of these ten-armed fellows from Stenor, over in the I Supergalaxy, in spite of intergalactic regulations and in spite of the fact that by smuggling alone they could start a war between the galaxies. ”