CHAPTER

5



JIM HAD MORE THAN A MONTH OF ACCUMULATED LEAVE TIME
coming and he took it. He wanted to go someplace with the   
feel of hot sand under his bare feet and the smell of sea in the
breeze. He wanted to forget about space and about Raoul Pen
ard and La Chasse Gallerie; he wanted to forget about the old
Canadian poems and songs, and about Mary Gallegher. Above    
all, he wanted to forget what she had said the last time they
had talked. Instead he wanted to fill his mind with wine,
women and song. But he lied to himself.
   So he went off, relying on sand, salt-smelling breezes and
the touch of women to burn all he wanted to forget out of his
mind. He went to a place in Baja California called Barres de
Hijo and signed in at a resort there. It had everything he was
looking for, including charterboat fishing for sailfish and tar-
pon. It also-or rather the resort hotel he stayed at-had a -
swimming pool at which he met a fellow vacationer named
Barbie Novak, who did fit his ideas of beauty and liked him
even better when she found out he was one of the Frontier
Guard pilots, on leave.
   The days and nights, consequcndy, wuc a p~aant blur
with Barbie for a companion, until she had to go home; and
following that there was a girl named Joan Takari. But 
morning after she had left he found himself lying alone on the
beach, hoping she had gotten home all right; and he could not
remember her face.
   So instead of looking around for more women to compan-
ion him, he took to sitting and walking by hinself, lying on
the beach and listening to the waves or seated up on the rocks
ovedooking a part of the shore that had no beach, watching
the surf crash on the blue-black boulders below in white foam.
   It was not, he concluded, that he wanted to live forever.
But nonetheless Mary's words from their last meeting stuck in
his mind. In a way they had taken the place of the emptiness
inside him-which was still there, but was now like a dark
cavern into which a small aperture had broken, letting in a
single ray of light.
    He had dreamed of space and wanted it from the first time
he had realized it was out there-which was earlier than he
could remember. All his life had pointed him at it. It was his
arena in which he could do something... something of lasting
effect. What he would do and how he would do it, he had no
idea. But he was like someone who dreams of a much-wanted
place, in a mountain so far off it was like a blue cloud on the
horizon of his babyhood, but always there, day after day. And
one day he had started to walk toward that mountain.
   He had had no idea what roads led to it, what waited for
him along the way, or how he would find his path and keep
from going astray. But he had been determined to keep head-
ing toward it until he reached it; and then he was determined
to find on it the place of which he dreamed. It was a case of
just always going forward. That way he could never go wrong
because all roads led there eventually. All roads, in fact, were
one road as long as he kept searching-the Forever Road, he
had named it in his mind.
   So, he left the resort one morning and went back to the
Base, to his duty station, in the mountains outside Denver.
When he checked into the Bachelor Officers' Ouarters, he
found a phone message waiting for him from General Mollen.
   "As soon as you get in, call me," the message read.
   He did so, and, after a ceitain length of time got put
through to the general.
   "Well," said Mollen, "and how was the fishing?"
   "Good, sir," said Jim. "I meant to stay longer, but I found I
got filled up sooner than I thought, on time off. I want to get
back to work."
   "Glad to hear it," said Mollen. "And I want to talk to you
about that. So why don't we have dinner at the Officers' Club
tonight?"
   What does a major say when a general invites him to din-
ner?
   "Thank you, sir.'I'd appreciate that. When, sir?"
   "Nineteen hundred hours. Meet you in the bar."
   "Yes sir. Thank you."
   Jim had bet himself that the general would be at least fif-
teen minutes, and perhaps as much as an hour, late. But he,
himself, was at the Officers' Club fifteen minutes ahead of the
time set, just to be on the safe side. It was a busy part of the
day for the bar, and the lounge which held it was full. Jim was
lucky enough to get a stool on the curve of the horseshoe-
shaped bar that was farthest from the lounge entrance, from
which he faced not only that entrance, but beyond it the front
door of the Club.
   "Good to see you again, Major," said the sergeant on duty
behind the bar.
   "You, too, Lee," answered Jim. T'hey knew each other; but
that particular veibal exchange was routine between the bar-
man and anyone who flew the Frontier, since none of the
pilots who did that ever knew for sure that they would see the
Club again.
   "Ginger ale," said Jim. "On the rocks."
   "Coming right up, sir."
   Jim sat, sipping the ginger ale, and watching the entrances
to the Club and the lounge, for Mollen. Jeremy Tickler, who
also captained a Wing on the Frontier and had gone through
final training with Jim, came by. They fell into shoptalk.
   But it was at exactly 1900 hours that the entrance door
opened and Mollen came through.
   "-Excuse me, Tick," said Jim, interrupting the other.
"Here he is now. I'll see you again, soon."
   "We shall wish," said Tickler, who was a little drunk, but
who had been told by Jim about the latter's dinner with the
general. Tickler lifted his glass to Jim as Jim departed to in-
tercept Mollen.
   He caught the general just outside the door of the lounge.
   "Oh, you're already here. Good," said Mollen, changing
direction. "In that case, let's go right into the dinitig room."
   He led the way to the dining room entrance, where the
mess attendant on duty took them to the quiet table in a corner
that was of course waiting for the general and his guest.
   "I'll have a bourbon. A single-mash bourbon, no ice, no
water, no soda, no anything," said the general.
   "Yes sir," said the mess attendant and went off, to return
with the drink himself in a few minutes. A waiter was at his
heels.
   "We don't want dinner just yet," Mollen said. He looked
over the attendant's shoulder at the waiter. "Come back in
about twenty minutes."
   Attendant and waiter departed.
   "Well, here's to the hope the fishing was good," said Mol-
len, lifting his glass. Jim drank with him, politely.
   They talked fishing until they were halfway through the
general's second bourbon; and by the time the first one had
been finished, Jim was beginning to be pretty sure that for
some reason Mollen was stalling. However, there was nothing
much he could do about that but wait for his superior to get to
the point.
   "-There's Mary Gallegher," the general interrupted him-
self midway through the second drink. He nodded across the
dance floor, which the dining area surrounded.
   Jim looked and saw her, just as Mollen had said. She was
with some major Jim did not know who was wearing the ai-
guillette, or dress shoulder cord loopod through one epaulet,
that marked him as an aide to some high-innking officer; and
the two of them were just sitting down at a table at the dance
floor's edge, in plain view.
   "She's got a working area of her own on Base here, with
La Chasse Gallerie and a staff of her own," said Mollen.
   "Yes sir," said Jim. They looked away from Mary and her
companion and back across the table at each other.
'There's a lot of politics involved in it',' said Mollen. He
drank from his glass. "Ever have much to do with politicians,
Jim?"
   "Happily, sir, they're above my range," said Jim.
   "Don't be so sure," said Mollen. Below the still-dark halr
on his round head, his bulldog face was somber. "Dealing
with them's supposed to be above my range, too. But the fact
is every one of us is affected by what they do to the Service,
generally. In this case, the fact we've got Mary and her lab, as
it's called, here on Base is all a matter of politics."
   "Is that so, sir?" He had not known anything about Mary
and a lab. He was being more polite than anything. It seemed
to him the general was still just making conversation.
   "Yes, that's so. And it's something that concerns you and
me, particularly," said Mollen. "They raised hell with me
when they discovered I'd let you go off on leave. Luckily,
they were ready to listen when I said that it might attract more
attention to call you back, suddenly, than it would be to let
you come back in your own time. I didn't think you'd stay
much longer than you did, anyway, knowing you."
   "Yes sir," said Jim, not understanding this at all.
   "Well, I was right. You're back safely and now you're
here, I'm afraid you're going to stay here. If you go off Base
from now on, it'll be with a couple of Secret Service types
riding shotgun on you."
   Jim stared.
   "Can I ask the general why?"
   "I told you. Politics. It just happened that the Chasse Gal-
lerie came home through the North American Sector of the
Frontier. That makes Raoul Penard and all the potentially
valuable scientific possibilities of his existence in the metal of
his ship a piece of property belonging to this oontinent. It also
makes him, it, Mary Gallegher- and you-items of consid-
erable potential value to our partners who guard the other Sec-
tions of the Frontier. That is, if they know about him yet-but
the general feeling is that if any of them don't by flow, they
will shortly. Also, the general feeling among those few whe
know about this is that there's too much at stake to take any
chances at all. There's the possibility of immortality which
Mary may have mentioned to you-or at least a lifetime that
isn't dependent on a body that can wear out. But beyond that,
there's unlimited possibilities of having ships and other things
that don't have to take into account the necessity of being
designed to protect the life of a breakable human inside them,
white they maneuver at high accelerations."
   He took a swallow from his glass. "The war with the
Laagi," he said, "may have brought all the nations of Iit~
into alliance, but the national rivalries are still thiere, and the
business of looking forward to a day in which they'll find
themselves competing, once again. So you're all under special
guard from now on."
   "But all I did was listen to Penard when we escorted him
back."
   "And saw his ship. And heard him again after he got here.
And had Mary Gallegher riding with you, in which case some
of her educated understanding of the nature and possibilities of
Penard may have iubbed off on you. No, Jim, the people up
top, the politicians up where decisions like this are made,
have decided you're under wraps from now on; and under
wraps you're going to be."
   "But I can go off Base, if! want to, as long as some Secret
Service people go with me?"
   "I didn't say that," Mollen answered. "In fact, I'mnot so
sure you'll be allowed off under any circumstances, unless it's
for something like going to Washington and reporting to the
higher-ups; or something of that nature."
   "I see, sir," said Jim gluraly.
   "Brace yourself," said Mollen. "So far I've only shown
you the tip of the iceberg. Not only are you going to be re-
stricted in the matter of leaving the Base, your movements and
contacts are going to be restricted here on the Base, too. From
now on you live in special quarters in that lab of Mary's I was
talking about, just as she and her staff does; and during your
waking hours I'll be keeping you under my eye, since I'm
personally responsible for you.
   "But you can't ride with me when I take the Wing out to
the Frontier, sir," protested Jim. "It'd be ridiculous, having a
general riding as gunner. These people up top you talk about
can't expect anything like that."
   "They don't," grunted Mollen. "I'm not going to join you;
you're going to join me."
   It took a long moment for the implications of this remark to
sink into Jim's mind. When it did, he stared at the older man.
   "Sir? You mean-you can't mean I'm grounded!"
   "That's the size of it," said Mollen. "Beginning tomorrow
morning you move into an office at my headquarters and be-
hind a desk as Chief of Section."
   "But sir," said Jim, "there has to be some other way of
working this. I'm a ship man. I don't know anything about a
deskjob. Can't I-"
   But Mollen was not listening. His gaze was roving the
room as if in search of a waiter. There was no waiter to be
seen, but in a minute the mess attendant had abandoned his
customary post by the entrance to the room and come hurrying
over.
   "Oh, Sven," said Mollen. "I'm sorry to bother you with
this, but would you just step across to Mary Gallegher-you
know who she is? Good. Ask her if she'll join us for a few
minutes. We won't keep her long. Tell her that."
   "Yes, General."
   The mess attendant went off. They could see him talking to
Mary Gallegher, and a second after, both she and her escort
pushed their chairs back and got to their feet.
   "Damn it, I don't want her hound dog, too!" said Mollen.
   But the major with the aiguillette was simply being polite.
As Mary started across the empty dance floor toward them,
the major sat down again. Jim and Mollen got to their feet in
turn. Mary came up and they all sat down.
   "Jim, here, just got back from leave," said Mollen to Mary.
"I've been telling him he's going to be housed with you pec-
pIe from now on and ride a desk as Chief of Section. Of
oourse, Jim, we'll be making you a colonel while we're about
it."
   "If you don't mind, sir, I'd rather stay a major," said Jim.
   "Still dreaming of getting back with your Wing?" said
Mollen. "Don't worty, if the chance comes, we'll send you
back as you are, even if you're the only lieutenant colonel-led,
five-ship Wing on the Frontier."
   "Thank you, sir," said Jim. But his mind was really not on
what the general had just said. He was looking at Mary, who
was wearing a light blue cocktail frock with irregularly shaped
chunks of aquamarinelike earrings under her reddish blond
hair.
   The combination became her. She had a good body and
Jim found himself once again up against the fact that she was
simply not his type of woman. It was just that rectangular face
of hers, with its straight bones and her blue-green eyes seemed
always to be challenging the world, including him-even
when there was no apperent reason.
   She was looking tired, though.
   "I take it you've been busy," he said to her, for something
to say. Mollen had caught a waiter at last and was sending him
off for a duplicate of the glass of white wine Mary had been
drinking with her major.
   "We have," said Mary. "But we're set up now and things
are moving. I won't be bothering you too often, but from time
to time there'll be parts of the work we'll want to bring you in
on, if that's all right?"
   "It'll be all right," said Mollen. "More than that, he'll be
glad to get away from that desk."
   "How's Raoul?" asked Jim.
   "Still happy to be back, I think," said Mary. "He doesn't
talk as often, anymore, but that's because I think what's left of
him in that ship spends most of its time dreaming. You see,
we don't have the whole man-I should say we don't have the
mind of the whole man, but just the part that wanted so badly
to get home. That's one of the things our work's turned up. It
isn't necessarily a matter of the whole mind being transferred
to something inanimate-"
   She broke off. The waiter had just come up with her glass
of white wine.
   "Thank you."
   "A pleasure, ma'am."
   "... You see," she went on, "what we seem to be coming
to is the beginning of a theory that could explain a lot that's
been part of folklore for centuries, but generally put down to
superstition. The poltergeist phenomenon, for example, and
haunted houses... that sort of thing."
   "Tell him why," said Mollen.
   She glanced around.
   "It's a little public..."
   "Don't worry. This corner's clean and it's in a scrambler
zone. Anyone even three feet from us would hear our voices,
but not be able to make out what we're talking about. Also
notice the empty tables around us, and the ones beyond that
with just one or two officers at each of them, sitting with
drink5 instead of food. Believe me, we're covered; and I want
him to learn this before he steps into that Aladdin's cave of
yours.
   "If that's what you want-sir." The "sir" was a slight,af
terthought. Clearly, Mary had not yet acquired an automatic
use of military manners. "You see, Jim, we established one
thing just by Penard's existence in that ship-the fact that the
mind can have an existence away from anything material;
though its instinct is to find something material as a vehicle if
it can."
   Jim nodded.
   "But our discovery since then's a blockbuster. It's that the
mind, existing separately, doesn't have to be the complete
mind. The mind'll go to almost any extremes normally rather
than leave the body it first grew in, from the first spark of
consciousness in the womb to a full-fledged, unique human or
animal individual. In fact, it'll go right up to the point of
dying with the body, ordinarily, rather than leaving it. But
under certain overwhelming, particular stresses, it or a part of
it will leave an intolerable situation. Is what I'm saying mak-
ing sense to you?"
   "You mean do I follow you?" said Jim. "I do."
   She made a little grimace of discomfort.
   "Please...?" she said.
   "Goddamn right!" said Mollen. "Cut out the prickly busi-
ness, Jim. We've no time or place for that anymore.
   "Yes sir    m sorry," said Jim to Mary. "I really am. I
don't know what gets into me sometimes. Go ahead. I'm in-
terested, as well as ready to listen."
   "It's most important you understand," Mary said. "I was
using the poltergeist phenomenon as an example. Most polter-
gism has been tied to young females. It's been checked in a
number of cases and pretty well taken for granted in the others
that the girl causing such phenomena was unhappy. No one I
know of ever found a way of measuring how unhappy."
   "I'd heard or read something like that," said Jim.
   "Well," she said, "Raoul's case gives us a new slant on
what might be happening in the case of poltergeist activity if it
actually is caused by unhappy, pre-adolescent girls. According
to what we've found with Raoul, one possibility is to assume
that it's not the whole mind, but just a portion of it, that
breaks loose from the rest under the strain of what, to the
person involved, is an intolerable situation. This part that
breaks loose, not being a full mind, is-effectively-crip~
pled. It reacts like a mindless animal, or like an insane person,
simply reacting to whatever triggers it. That's only a guess
and it may be completely wrong.
   "But it'd make sense," said Jim.
   "The same theory could even be pushed to help explain
certain types of insanity in general," said Mary. "But that's
way out on a limb, and not what we're concerned with first
and foremost, which is duplicating the Penard phenomenon.
The problem with Raoul is that there's absolutely nothing in
the way of previous work or speculation to build on. The most
we can find to stand on is the fact that, as his case proves, the
human mind's not only able to exist apart from the body; but it
can bond to and control material objects. Whether it controls
them directly or by means of their own machinery, is a pure
guess."
   "You mean, whether Raoul's dead mind drove his engines,
or he just pushed it through interstellar space by mind-power
alone?"
   "Maybe he was able to do both," said Mary. "Actually, in
Raoul's case, there seems to be some evidence he used his
mind alone to move the ship where he wanted. Particularly on
the last stages of the trip home, that ship had no ability left to
drive itself mechanically. By the way, I wish you wouldn't
talk about Raoul as if he was dead. To me, he certainly isn't;
or to anyone working with me.
   "All right," said Jim.
   "You mean, it's not all right at all," said Mary, on what
sounded very close to a note of exasperation "When you set
your jaw like that and look nobly at the ceiling, I know ex-
acdy what you're thinking. I tell you it's important that those
of us working with him-and you're going to be one of those
from time to time, though we'll try to disturb you as little as
possible-don't think of him as dead, at all; any more than
we go around thinking of ourselves as particularly alive
We're just in one state. He's in another."
   "He's not a whole mind, I thought, according to what you
said," murmured Jim. Nonetheless he was embarrassed.
"Sorry again, though. I'll make a point of thinking of him as a
living person, all the time, from now on."
   "Good," she said. "We'll all appreciate that."
   "What exacdy," asked Jim, "are you likely to want me to
56
do? I was saying to General Mollen that I didn't know what
use I could be."
   "We don't know-yet," she said. "What we're going to be
doing is flying blind, trying out first this theory, then that one.
On some of the theories we may need your help to test them.
For example, one of the things that seems to be deeply in-
volved with what happened is Raoul's literal love for his ship.
Would you say you loved your AndFn'nd. Jim?"
   The question was asked in a tone that was almost too seri-
ous.
   "Like a sailor loves his ship. You bet," said Jim. "Possibly
even a little more, since AndFriend's peactically an extension
of my own body when we're out in space together. Maybe it's
almost like loving your own dog. Haven't you ever done any-
thing like that, Mary? Loved the first bike you ever owned or
some pet you once had."
   "No," said Mary. "Loving a piece of machinery sounds
almost a little abnormal; and I never was much for having a
pet, let alone loving one."
   "You said you need me to test these theories?" Jim asked.
   "Yes."
   "On Raoul?"
   "On Raoul. Possibly on you, too, as a sort of control su~
ject since you seem to respond to your ship very much the way
he did to his. We can compare reactions and hopefully dis-
cover something."
   "I thought you said he doesn't talk as much nowadays.
Will he answer when you speak to him?"
   "We think so, somefimes," Mary said. "It seems to depend
on whether what we ask ties in to what he's thinking-or
dreaming-about at the time. Sometimes we can rateate a
sort of ship~on~the-Frontier situation for him, and that helps us
to get through to him and get his cooperation. You may be
able to help us in that area."
   "I'll do what I can, of course."
   "Well, you're due to have dinner; and we haven't had ours
yet, either," said Mary. "What about if when you finish, you
come over and get me and I'll take you tlrrough the lab we've
set up?"
   "Fine," said Jim.
   "Very fine," said Mollen, "because if no one d.c is, I'm
starving to death. We'll be ordering right away, Mary. Why
don't you come over when you're through with your own
meal, because my hunch is we'll be finished frst."
   "All right, if you think that'd be better."
   She rose, and they got up with her. She went back across
the dance floor and they sat down. The waiter, who seemed to
be hovering in the wings, was with them almost as soon as
they were reseated.
   After Jim and Mollen had eaten, they talked for about half
an hour, while Mary and her escort finished their own meal
across the dance floor. Happily, it was a weekday night and no
band was playing, so that the floor stayed empty and the view
clear-though Jim suspected that something would have been
organized to let them know how dinner was going at the other
table if the dance floor had been full of dancers.
   At any rate, after a hit. Mary sat back from her plate, said
a few words to the major across from her and got up. She
came across and got Jim, and together they walked down the
lit streets of the Base and over a few blocks into its older
section.
   She stopped at one of the older office buildings, a four-
story structure of wood, rowed with tall windows, with only a
few of them lighted, and one equally tall wooden door, which
Mary now unlocked.
   Here, they were away from mosi of' the street lights, and it
was possible for Jim, when he looked up for a moment before
going in, to see the stars over the mountain peaks on this
cloudless night. For a second the thought of space tugged at
him with a poignancy that was a stabbing pain. Then he fol-
lowed Mary into the lighted interior, and the door closed be-
hind them.
   The room they stepped into was tiny and brilliantly lit. No,
it was two rooms; for even its small space was divided, front
to back, from beside the entrance to beside a door in the back
wall by a floor~to-ceihng transparency behind which was a
single desk, a single chair and a single sergeant with holstered
sidearm. The feeling of closeness was increased by the bright
light, the lowness of the ceiling and a faint smell of varnish.
   "Credentials, ma'am? Sir?"
   The voice of the sergeant came at them through some
speaker system in the roof overhead. Mary fished in the large
tan handbag slung by a strap from her left shoulder and pro-
duced two silver-colored identification-type cards complete
with pictures.
   "Thank you, ma'am. Sir."
   The door in the farther wall swung open. Mary handed one
of the cards to Jim before leading the way farther into the
building.
   "Here, you'd probably better keep that with you from now
on."
   Jim took it. The picture on it was the same as that on his
regular Base ID. He tucked it in his wallet as he went after her
through the door, which closed behind them.
   They stepped into an area which to Jim, at first glance,
seemed enormous. To his surprise, the wooden front wall of
the building, and presumably the side walls also, had been
backed by a four-feet thickness of concrete blocks solidly ce-
mented together, so that the effect was like being in some
enormous cavern. Lights at some distance from each other
were burning thee stories overhead, reinforcing the illusion of
vast, empty space.
   To Jim's left was a chunk of the building still divided into
rooms and offices, so that it looked like a tower built inside
the cave and going up the full four stories of the original
structure. Inside here, all of these enclosed spaces had lights
on within them but no sign of people. Mary reached out to the
wall beside her and touched it. The existing illurtunation was
suddenly reinforced by a blaze of lights in the open cavern
area, not only at the third story level of those now burinng,
but also now at ceiling level, a story higher up.
   The increase in brightness was so intense that for a mornent
Jim's eyes were dazzled and he saw nothing. Then, looksng
up, he became aware that in the fourth story of space of the
open area hung all sorts of cranes and heavy slings; and the
reason for reinforcing the walls became obvious. Support
would be needed if instruments like these were going to lift
the sort of loads they had been designed to lift.
   But it was when he looked down again, at the vast open
space of the floor, that he rtacted. Because there sat not only
La Chasse Gallerie, the ship that literally now was Raoul
Penard, but beside it another ship that he recognized at first
glance.
   "You've got AndFriend here!"
   It came out of him as an exclamation that was magnified by
the echoes of the large open space into a shout.
   "Of course," said Mary. "Your ship's also part of every-
thing that's concerned with our rescue of Raoul. In a situation
where we don't know anything, we work with anything that
could possibly help give us a key."
   Jim went unthinkingly toward AndFnend and laid a hand
flat on the polished curve of her nose.
   "Is she taking good care of you, baby?" he whispered, too
low for even the echoes here to make it audible to Mary Gal-
legher's ears. He thought he felt reassurance from the metal he
touched.
   He turned to look at La Chasse Gallerie. In contrast with
her interior, nothing had been done to repair or even clean her
up, outside.
   "I suppose," he said over his shoulder to Mary, his voice
sounding loud in the stillness in spite of his conversational
tones, "you didn't want to risk touching Penard's ship any
more than you had to. It looks the way it looked when we first
saw it, out beyond the Frontier."
   "Yes," said Mary. She had drawn close until she stood only
a step from him and his ship and only half a dozen steps from
Raoul's. "We had to take some very small lab samples so we'd
have something to work on. Otherwise it hasn't been
touched."
   An intense longing suddenly gripped him to sit once more
in AndFriend's command chair. He had not seen his ship from
the moment of landing with Penard's vessel alongside here at
Base. He had tried to get to her half a dozen times, and been
turned back with the excuse that AndFriend, like La Chasse
Galierie, was off-limits until it had been thoroughly checked
out by all those departments from Intelligence on down who
felt they might have something there to check.
   In the same moment he thought he caught a glimpse of
something, there and almost instantly gone again, in Mary's
eyes as she watched him. What it could have been, if in fact it
had not been something he had imagined, he could not tell. It
might almost have been a look of pity, except that there was
no reason for Mary to look at him that way, and in fact he was
not sure she was capable of feeling that particular emotion.
   But the longing to sit in the pilot's corn-chair again had put
hirn in movement even as he was noticing this. He swung
about, walked three steps down AndFriend's side and laid his
hand on the operating button of her entry port.
   "I'll have a look inside while I'm here-"
   "No!" said Mary, so sharply that he stopped in spite of
himself.
   He swung around to face her. 
   "It's my ship."
   "I'm sorry," said Mary. "But it's part of the red tape-you
know how these things are. It hasn't been released for entry
by anyone but me and my staff."
   She smiled a little sadly at him.
   "I'm sorry," she said-and she really sounded as if she
meant it. "You know. Orders."
   But the Frontier pilots were not book people. if they had
been, most of those who had lived would have died before
this.
   "Orders may be orders," he said lighdy, turning back to the
button, "still-"
   "Still, you'll obey them!" said the voioe of Mollen harshly,
and Jim swung around again to see that not only the general,
but also either the sergeant at the entrance or his double, had
together come around the nose of La Chasse Gallerie.
   Jim's hand fell helples.~ly at his side.
   "I came by to see if you could use a ride back to the BOQ,"
Mollen went on to him. "You'll be moving into the resident
wing in this building tomorrow, but tonight you might as well
be in a bed you're used to."
   "Thank you, sir," said Jim. He looked at Mary. "If Mary's
finished showing me around... ? We'd just got in here....
   "I'm afraid there's not much more I can show you, any-
way," Mary said. "All the labs are locked and most of the
people out of them at this hour. I just thought you'd like to see
where your own ship and Raoul's are being kept."
   "I appreciate it," said Jim to her. He turned to the general.
   "Thank you again, sir. I'll come right along."
   "Good," said Mollen.
   He turned and led the way to the entraice and into the
street outside. It was so dark by contrast that for a moment
Jim could hardly naake out Mollen's limousine, floating just
above the pavement, a step ftom the door. Mary had not fol-
lowed them out. Mollen gestured and Jim followed him into
the back seat.
   "Bachelor officers' Quarters, Building Kl47," Mollen told
his driver. They moved off.
   "For God's sake," the general said after a bit, breaking the
silence as they drove toward the part of the Bane where the
unmarried officers were quartered, "don't look like you're
going to be shot. I promise, I'll get you back into space,
eventually."
   Jim looked up, hope waking in him after all.
   "It actually is a promise, sir?" he said, and held his breath:
   "It's a promise," grunted Mollen. "The only one who'll
stop you from getting hack into space will be you. But you'll
have to stick it out, meanwhile."
"I'll stick," said Jim.