t we picked up the first. Of course, we
might get another--" Mardikian's voice trailed off.

Coffin continued to stare. At last: "They've been giving you a hard
time, haven't they?"

"What?"

"The ones like Lochaber, who want to go on. They wish you'd had the
sense to keep your mouth shut, at least till you consulted me. And then
others, like de Smet, have said the opposite. Even over telecircuit,
it's no fun being a storm center, is it?"

"No, sir--"

* * * * *

Coffin turned away. Why torment the fellow more? This thing had
happened, that was all. And the fewer who realized the danger, and were
thereby put under still greater strain, the less that danger would be.

"Avoid such disputes," said Coffin. "Most especially, don't brood over
those which do arise. That's just begging for a nervous breakdown--out
here. Carry on."

Mardikian gulped and went aft.

Coffin drifted athwartships. The vessel thrummed around him.

He was not on watch, and had no desire to share the bridge with whoever
was. He should eat something, but the idea was nauseating; he should try
to sleep, but that would be useless. How long had he been with Teresa,
while she cleared his mind and gave him what comfort she had to offer? A
couple of hours. In fourteen hours or less, he must confront the
spokesmen of crew and colonists. And meanwhile the fleet seethed.

On Earth, he thought wearily, a choice between going on and turning back
would not have drawn men so close to insanity, even if the time elements
had been the same. But Earth was long domesticated. Maybe, centuries
ago, when a few wind-powered hulks wallowed forth upon hugeness, unsure
whether they might sail off the world's edge--maybe then there had been
comparable dilemmas. Yes ... hadn't Columbus' men come near mutiny? Even
unknown, though, and monster-peopled by superstition, Earth had not been
as cruel an environment as space; nor had a caravel been as unnatural as
a spaceship. Minds could never have disintegrated as quickly in
mid-ocean as between the stars.

Coffin grew aware, startled, that he had wandered to the radio shack.

He entered. It was a mere cubbyhole, one wall occupied by gleaming
electronic controls, the rest full of racked equipment, tools, testers,
spare parts, half-assembled units for this and that special purpose. The
fleet did not absolutely need a Com officer--any spaceman could do the
minimal jobs, and any officer had in