"Yes. Mr. Rogers, I am a man disinclined to consorting with my crews. Your main duty aboard will be to convey my orders and requests to the crew. For all intensive purposes, you will appear to be in command. I suppose you have been well briefed on the purpose of this venture. If we succeed, and we shall, you will return a very rich man." "I already am pretty well off," I said. "I did not say pretty well off, Mr. Rogers. I said very rich. But, be that as it may, you have the look of a good officer about you. We'll get on, I'm sure." "I hope so, sir," I said. "You've had your own commands, Mr. Rogers. It's one of the reasons I'm glad you're with me. You are familiar with the problems of command. How is it that you were so lax as to let your papers lapse? Your command record is excellent." "I was retired," I said. "I didn't think I'd ever need them." "But the old habits do not die, do they?" "I guess you can put it that way." * * * * * He looked at me and was quiet for a time. Then he looked up. "Have you ever felt, Mr. Rogers, that the whole of the universe was put together wrong? That perhaps man was placed here to undo some of God's bad work? Have you? Have you ever wished that all your life could be different? Have you ever seen evil? True evil, or its absolute personification?" "I may have," I said. "But I've done well not to let my imagination run too rampant at times like that." "Mr. Rogers, do you know how I lost my crew on the Essex?" The Essex had been Kingsford's command on the first expedition to Aldebaran IX. "I've heard bits of it," I said. "Aldebaran IX is a very strange planet. The atmosphere is extremely dense, entirely breatheable, you understand, but dense almost to the point where you could compare it to water. The atmosphere is a true ocean of air. The surface of the planet has barren areas, trenches, shelves, sections of almost jungle-like undergrowth, and a very hazardously deceptive feeling of warmth. It has no intelligent life. But it does have life. I can assure you of that. It has life. I experienced some of its life." Here, he paused again. When he resumed, his thoughts had gone beyond the life of Aldebaran IX. "Every ounce of matter on that planet contains the highest percentage of ore my counters have ever recorded. Ore, Mr. Rogers, the Ultimate Ore. The ore for which forty-two men under my command died. I intend that the dependents of those men will reap the benefits of that ore. I have instructed that my entire share be distributed among these heirs. This bit of information is to go no further than yourself, you understand." "I understand," I said. "Mr. Rogers," he then said, "were any of your past commands of a military nature?" "How do you mean, sir?" "Well, on an alien world, for example, have you ever organized a tactical reconnaissance program? Or perhaps planned a system of self covering defense positions?"