's
shock gun, that could not kill but only cause unconsciousness for
twenty-four hours.

* * * * *

Captain McClelland gave an order. The weapons were gathered up and
placed in an airlock which thrust them out into space. Five of the
crew lay down in their bunks. Dr. Anna Mueller, tall and slim,
full-bosomed, tawny-skinned and tawny-haired, remained standing. She
pressed the thought recorders over the heads of the other five people
who lay there motionless, clamped the tiny electrodes onto her own
temples and placed a small, black box, covered with many tiny dials,
beside the bunk of Miss Gordon, the televisor.

A moment later, a jumble of thoughts: _Now I am dead. An end. For
what, now that it's here? Love. The warm press of a body. Trees and
grass. Sunrise. To take poison. Clean air after a rain. City, people,
lights. Sunset--_

The thought words jumbled like a voice from a recorder when the speed
is turned up.

Then they faded and one thought stream came through clean and clear:
_I am Dr. Anna Mueller. Good none of the others can hear what I'm
thinking. Was afraid I'd die this way someday. But to prolong it.
Painless death in an instant. Could give it to us all. But orders.
Captain McClelland. No feeling? Can't he see what I feel for him? Why
am I thinking like this? Now. But this is what is happening to me.
He'd rather make love to this ship. Kiss Crowley before I give him the
metabolism sedation shot. Captain'll see I'm a woman._

[Illustration]

She stepped to the bulkhead and pressed a button. A medicine cabinet
opened. After filling a hypodermic syringe, she went to Crowley, bent
down and gave him a long kiss on the lips.

Instantly Colonel Halter heard thoughts.

Captain McClelland: _She must be weak. Why's she doing that? Thought
she was stronger. But the ship's the thing. The ship and I._

Crowley: _What the hell? Didn't know she went for me. Just a half hour
with her before the needle. What's to lose?_ He pulled her down to
him.

Lieutenant Brady: _He'd do that, the damned animal. But I'm not enough
of an animal. I'm a good spaceman. All spontaneity's been trained out
of me. Feel like killing him. And taking her. Anyplace. But I'm so
controlled. Got to do something. This last time...._ He sat up in his
bunk.

Caroline Gordon: _I knew he was like that. Married when we got back.
Mrs. Crowley. And if we'd gotten back. Out every other night with
another woman. I c