atch for the next hour or two. I'll ring him up
and have him come down here, I guess."

Alan shook his head. "No--don't do that. Tell him to meet me on B Deck."
He gave the location of the picture-viewscreen where he had parked
Steve, and Kandin shrugged and agreed.

Alan made his way back to the viewscreen. Rat looked up at him; he was
sitting perched on Steve's shoulder.

"Anyone bother you?" Alan asked.

"No one's come by this way since you left," Rat said.

"Alan?" a quiet voice said.

Alan turned. "Hello, Dad."

The Captain's lean, tough face had some new lines on it; his eyes were
darkly shadowed, and he looked as if he hadn't slept much the night
before. But he took Alan's hand and squeezed it warmly--in a fatherly
way, not a Captainly one. Then he glanced at the sleeping form behind
Alan.

"I--went into the city, Dad. And found Steve."

Something that looked like pain came into Captain Donnell's eyes, but
only for an instant. He smiled. "It's strange, seeing the two of you
like this. So you brought back Steve, eh? We'll have to put him back on
the roster. Why is he asleep? He looks like he's out cold."

"He is. It's a long story, Dad."

"You'll have to explain it to me later, then--after blastoff."

Alan shook his head. "No, Dad. Steve can explain it when he wakes up,
tonight. Steve can tell you lots of things. I'm going back to the city."

"What?"

It was easy to say, now--the decision that had been taking vague form
for several hours, and which had crystallized as he trudged across the
spacefield toward the _Valhalla_. "I brought you back Steve, Dad. You
still have one son aboard ship. I want off. I'm resigning. I want to
stay behind on Earth. By our charter you can't deny such a request."

Captain Donnell moistened his lips slowly. "Agreed, I can't deny. But
why, Alan?"

"I think I can do more good Earthside. I want to look for Cavour's old
notebooks; I think he developed the hyperdrive, and if I stay behind on
Earth maybe I can find it. Or else I can build my own. So long, Dad. And
tell Steve that I wish him luck--and that he'd better do the same for
me." He glanced at Rat. "Rat, I'm deeding you to Steve. Maybe if he had
had you instead of me, he never would have jumped ship in the first
place."

He looked around, at his father, at Steve, at Rat. There was not much
else he could say. And he knew that if he prolonged the farewell scene
too long, he'd only be burdening his father and hims