bies Center, a store in Jarviston, Minnesota, that used to
deal mostly in skin diving equipment, model plane kits, parts for
souping up old cars, and the like. The Archer Five was a bit obsolete
for the elegant U.S. Space Force boys--hence the fantastic drop in price
from two thousand dollars since only last June. It was still a
plenty-good piece of equipment, however; and the cost change was a real
break for the Bunch.

By 4:30 that bright October afternoon, those members who were attending
regular astronautics classes at Jarviston Technical College had gathered
at Hendricks' store. Ramos and Tiflin, two wild characters with
seldom-cut hair and pipe stem pants, who didn't look as if they could be
trusted with a delicate unpacking operation, broke the Archer out with a
care born of love, there in Paul Hendricks' big backroom shop, while the
more stolid members--and old Paul, silent in his swivel chair--watched
like hawks.

"So who tries it on first?" Ramos challenged. "Dumb question. You,
Eileen--naturally."

Most Bunches have a small, hard, ponytailed member, dungareed like the
rest.

Still kidding around, Ramos dropped an arm across Eileen Sands'
shoulders, and got her sharp elbow jabbed with vigor into his stomach.

She glanced back in a feminine way at Frank Nelsen, a tall, lean guy of
nineteen, butch-haircutted and snub featured. But he was the purposeful,
studious kind, more an observer and a personal doer than a leader; he
hadn't much time for the encouraging smiles of girls, and donning even
an Archer Five now instead of within a few hours, didn't exactly
represent his kind of hurry.

"I'll wait, Eileen," he said. Then he nodded toward Gimp Hines. That the
others would also pick Gimp was evident at once. There were bravos and
clapping, half for a joke.

"Think I won't?" Gimp growled, tossing his crutches on a workbench
littered with scraps of color-coded wire, and hopping forward on the one
leg that had grown to normal size. He sort of swaggered, Frank Nelsen
noticed. Maybe the whole Bunch swaggered with him in a way, because,
right now, he represented all of them in their difficult aim. Gimp
Hines, with the nylon patch in his congenitally imperfect heart, and
with that useless right underpinning, had less chance of taking part in
space-development than any of them--even with all his talent for
mechanics and electronics.

Two-and-Two (George) Baines, a large, mild person who was an expert
bricklayer i