urprised." He turned away
before I could think of an answer that would combine insolence and
respect for his rank. "Keep her on course, Mr. Halloran," he tossed over
his shoulder as he went out.

We kept on course--high and hard despite a couple of disturbances that
lumbered by underneath us. Once I made a motion to stop ship and check,
but Halloran shook his head.

"Don't do it, sir," he warned.

"Why not?"

"You heard the Captain's orders. He's a heller for having them obeyed.
Besides, they might be Rebs--and we might get hurt shooting at them.
We'll just report their position and approximate course--and keep on
travelling. Haskins is on the Dirac right now." Halloran's voice was
sarcastic.

I didn't like the sound of it, and said so.

"Well, sir--we won't lose them entirely," Halloran said comfortingly.
"Some cruiser will investigate them. Chances are they're ours
anyway--and if they aren't there's no sense in us risking our nice shiny
skin stopping them--even though we could take them like Lundy took
Koromaja. Since the book doesn't say we have to investigate, we won't."
His voice was bitter again.

At 0840 hours on the fourth day out, my annunciator buzzed. "Sir," the
talker's voice came over the intercom, "Lieutenants Marsden and Allyn
are wanted in the Captain's quarters."

* * * * *

Chase was there--toying with the seals of a thin, brown envelope. "I
have to open this in the presence of at least two officers," he said
nodding at Allyn who came in behind me. "You two are senior on the ship
and have the first right to know." He slid a finger through the flap.

"Effective 12, Eightmonth, GY2964," he read, "USN 'Lachesis' will
proceed on offensive mission against enemy vessels as part of advance
covering screen Fleet Four for major effort against enemy via sectors YD
274, YD 275, and YD 276. Entire Scouting Force IV quadrant will be
grouped as Fleet Four Screen Unit under command Rear Admiral SIMMS.
Initial station 'Lachesis' coordinates X 06042 Y 1327 Betelgeuse-Rigel
baseline. ETA Rendezvous point 0830 plus or minus 30, 13/8/64.

"A. Evars, Fleet Admiral USN Commanding."

There it was! I could see Allyn stiffen as a peculiar sick look crossed
Chase's dry face. And suddenly I heard all the ugly little
nicknames--Subspace Chase, Gutless Gus, Cautious Charley--and the dozen
others. For Chase was afraid. It was so obvious that not even the gray
mask of his face could cov