nly Crewman in the _Valhalla's_ history to do
that. And no one new ever came aboard, except in the case of the
infrequent changes of personnel. Judy Collier herself was one of the
newest members of the Crew, and her family had come aboard five ship
years ago, because a replacement signal officer had been needed.

Otherwise, things remained the same. Two or three dozen families, a few
hundred people, living together year in and year out. No wonder Judy
Collier always had to go to dances with Roger Bond. The actual range of
eligibles was terribly limited.

That was why Steve had gone over the hill. What was it he had said? _I
feel the walls of the ship holding me in like the bars of a cell._ Out
there was Earth, population approximately eight billion or so. And up
here is the _Valhalla_, current population precisely 176.

He knew all 176 of them like members of his own family--which they
were, in a sense. There was nothing mysterious about anyone, nothing
new.

And that was what Steve had wanted: something new. So he had jumped
ship. Well, Alan thought, development of a hyperdrive would change the
whole setup, if--if----

He hardly found the quarantine to his liking either. The starmen had
only a brief stay on Earth, with just the shortest opportunity to go
down to the Enclave, mingle with starmen from other ships, see a new
face, trade news of the starways. It was almost criminal to deprive them
of even a few hours of it.

Well, a dance was the second best thing. But it was a pretty distant
second, he thought, as he pushed himself up out of the pneumochair.

He looked across the recreation room. _Speak of the devil_, he thought.
There was Roger Bond now, stretched out and resting too under a
radiotherm lamp. Alan walked over to him.

"Heard the sad news, Rog?"

"About the quarantine? Yeah." Roger glanced at his wristchron. "Guess
I'd better start getting spruced up for the dance," he said, getting to
his feet. He was a short, good-looking, dark-haired boy a year younger
than Alan.

"Going with anyone special?"

Roger shook his head. "Who, special? Who, I ask you? I'm going to take
skinny Judy Collier, I guess. There's not much choice, is there?"

"No," Alan agreed sadly, "Not much choice at all."

Together they left the recreation room. Alan felt a strange sort of
hopeless boredom spreading over him, as if he had entered a gray fog. It
worried him.

"See you tonight," Roger said.

"I suppose so," Alan