bunk, Alan sagged back against the wall. He liftedhis tired eyelids and stared at the sprightly old gentleman.
"But I was promised a cabin by myself!"
The old man looked distressed. "I'm very sorry, young man. I, too, hopedto have a cabin to my self. I learned only a few minutes ago that I wasto be quartered with another passenger--evidently you. Somebody made amistake, there's no question of that, but the Purser tells me that everybit of space is occupied, and no other arrangements can be made. Unlessyou want to postpone your voyage, and follow in a later ship?"
"No," said Alan. His voice had sunk to a whisper. "No, I can't do that."
"Then we'll have to make the best of it, young man," he said, picking upa pile of handkerchiefs, and putting them in the drawer he had pulledout from the wall.
"Let me introduce myself. I am Wilson Larrabee--teacher, or student,according to the point of view. Some years of my life I've spent being aprofessor of this or that at various universities, and the other yearsI've spent in travel. Whenever the bank account gets low, I offer myknowledge to the nearest university, and stay there until I pile upenough credits so I can travel again."
"Sounds a lonely sort of life, with no roots anywhere."
"Oh, no! My wife loved travelling as much as I do, and wherever she was,was home." He paused, his hand arrested in the act of hanging up hislast necktie, and for a moment his face was somber. Then he finishedhanging up the tie, gave it a little pat, and continued cheerfully.
"We saw most of the world, in the fifty years we had together. The lasttrip she made with me, to the Moon and back, was in some ways thepleasantest of all. After we returned, we started planning and savingand dreaming of making one last grand tour outside the solar system. Andthen--well, she was more than seventy, and I try to think that she isn'tdead, that she just started the last tour a little ahead of me. That'swhy I'm making this jaunt now, the one we planned on the _Star Lord_.It's lonely, in a way, but she wouldn't have wanted me to give up andstay home, just because I had to go on alone."
* * * * *
Glancing at Alan's bent head, Professor Larrabee abruptly banged shutthe lid of his empty suitcase and shoved it into the conveyor port inthe wall to shoot it down to Luggage. Then he straightened up andrumpled his white hair.
"That's done, young man. Will you join me in the Bar for a spacecap?"
"Sorry, sir. I'm very tired. I just want to rest and be quiet."
"But a frothed whiskey would help you to relax. Come along, and let mebuy you a final drink before we take off for eternity."
Alan noticed with distaste the white carnation in the coat lapel of hiscompanion. "I hardly like to think of this trip as being synonymous witheternity," he said. "You sound as though you didn't expect to comeback."
"Do I? Perhaps I made an unfortunate choice of words. But do you believein premonitions, Dr. Chase?"
"No. All premonitions stem from indigestion."
"No doubt you are right. But from the moment of boarding this ship Ihave been haunted by the memory of an extremely vivid story I onceread."
"What kind of a story?"
"Oh, it was a scientific romance, one of those impossible flights offancy they used to publish in my boyhood, about the marvels of futurescience. This was in the days before we had got outside the solarsystem, but I still remember the tale, for it was about a spaceshipwhich was wrecked on its first voyage."
"But there've been hundreds of other such stories! Why should thisparticular one be bothering you now?"
"Well, you see," said the professor apologetically, "it's because of thename. The coincidence of names. This other ship, the one in thestory--it was called the _Star Lord_."
"I wouldn't let that worry me. Surely it's a logical name for aspaceship?"
Professor Larrabee laughed. "Logical, and perhaps a trifle presumptuous.But I'm sure it's a meaningless coincidence, my boy. Now how about thatdrink?"
Alan shook his head.
"Come, Dr. Chase. Allow me the liberties of an old man. You're obviouslyill, you want to crawl into a hole and pull the hole in after you, andenjoy the deadly luxury of feeling sorry for yourself. But we can't dothat sort of thing. Let me prescribe for you."
With an effort, Alan smiled. "All right, Professor. I usually do theprescribing myself, but right now I'm too tired to argue. I'll accept aspacecap with pleasure." He swallowed a panedol tablet to ease his pain,then pulled himself up.
"That's the spirit, my boy! We will drink to the _Star Lord_, that shemay have a happier fate than her namesake."
* * * * *
Five minutes before takeoff. The first signal had sounded. The Bar wasclosed by now, the lounges deserted, and in theory the twelve hundredand fifty passengers were secure in their cabins, waiting for theinstantaneous jump into hyperspace.
At the port, Chief Steward Davis leaned against the wall with his trayof wilting flowers, while the Second Officer and two crewmen stood by,waiting for the final signal to close the port.
They were startled by a sudden commotion, a flurry of voices, and turnedto see the elevator doors open on the loading platform. A group oflaughing people surged forward.
"But I'm late again, darlings!" cried a vibrant voice. "You must let mego now! The ship is waiting just for me, I know. Stop holding me!"
"But we don't want to lose you!" called a man.
"You know I'll be back in the fall."
"But the theater can't get along without you!"
"But it won't be forever, darling!"
Still laughing, Tanya Taganova pulled away from her teasing friends. Shewas a tall woman, very slender; very beautiful, with her burnishedauburn hair and warm brown eyes. She walked forward with the swiftprecision of a dancer, in her flared gown of stiff green satin, whoseruff stood out about her slender neck to frame a regal head. In her armsshe carried an enormous sheaf of red roses.
With light steps she entered the port, then turned to wave at herfriends and give them a last challenging smile.
The Second Officer asked sharply, "Are you a passenger, madame? You'rerather late."
"And I tried _so_ hard to be on time for once in my life! I'm verysorry, lieutenant!"
"Quite all right, madame. You got here in time, and that's what counts.But you'll have to hurry to get to your cabin before takeoff."
"Wait!" said Steward Davis. His long face had come to life as he lookedat her admiringly and extended his tray of flowers.
"White roses? For me?" she said.
"Yes, madame. Compliments of the Star Line."
Turning her head, she moved away. "Thank you, but I'm not ready to wearwhite roses, yet. It's not that they're not lovely, but--" she raisedher arms, burdened with their scented blooms, "you see that I alreadyhave so many flowers, and the red rose is still for the living!"
Davis banged his tray to the floor and shoved it aside with his foot.
"All right, madame. Now we'll have to hurry. We'll have to run!"
* * * * *
A final bell rang, a final light flashed.
On the floor below the ship, the crowds of relatives and wistfulstay-at-homes gazed up; at the beautiful metal creation, poised on itsslender fins, nose pointed towards the opened dome.
A vibration began, a gentle, barely perceptible shuddering of the groundwhich increased in frequency. It beat through the floor, into theirfeet, until their whole bodies quivered with the racing pulse that grewfaster, faster, as the twenty-four total conversion Piles in the shipreleased their power. Then, as the people watched, between one instantand the next, the ship vanished. In the blink of an eyelid she hadshifted to hyperspace.
The _Star Lord_ had begun her maiden voyage.
* * * * *
By the second day out, most of the passengers felt completely at home.The ship had become a separate world, and the routines they had leftbehind them on earth, and the various routines they would take
up againsome six weeks from now on Almazin III seemed equally remote andimprobable. Life on the _Star Lord_ was the only reality.
She moved through the uncharted realms of hyperspace, travelling in onehour's time as measured by earth watches, more than twenty light yearsdistance, if measured in the units of real space. The ship itself wasquiet. The vibration of the takeoff had ended in a moment, and now thepassengers could hear no noise and hum of motors, could feel no motionagainst swelling waves, no battering against a barrier of uneven air.The artificial gravity induced a sense of security as absolute as thoughthe ship were resting on living rock.
Although most