"Yes, sir. She asked for you specifically, if you would be allowed---" "I've got to go to her!" He rose and started for the door, but lost his balance and stumbled down on one knee. He pushed away the adjutant, who was leaning over him. "It's the sleeping pill. Tell the doctor I need a stimulant, and find out about a landing craft." He waved his arm vaguely. "Colonel Liebenstein has said to meet him aboard the Kythera in half an hour. They will be sending a party to the capitol at that time." "Have we a functioning shuttle?" The deja-vu was almost too powerful. "Yes, Commander." "Go. Go." The young man left the room as he strained to right himself and recover some semblance of calm. Realizing the latter was impossible, and that the stimulant would make it worse, being so far beyond any choice..... He sat helpless on the edge of the bed, and gave himself up to the Sea which had dashed him so mercilessly, yet now was bearing him, heedless, toward all his desire. "If only she is all right!" His head dipped again beneath the drowning swells, and he struggled for breath. A medic entered with a syringe and a distracted, irritated look on his face. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Brunner said nothing, rolled up the sleeve and pointed to his upper arm. Shortly afterward the adjutant returned. No longer shunning his help, he leaned heavily against him, and after the first mad adrenalin rush, made his way as in a three-legged race to the shuttledock. "Can you fly a shuttle?" he asked as they entered. But seeing a pilot already at the helm, he asked instead, "Can you be spared from your duties?" "Yes, sir. If you wish---" "I do." A complex series of emotions, such as only real life can provide, made him not want to be parted from this lad, so very little more than a boy. The shuttle made its way to the Kythera, from which her summons had come. Upon arrival he and the boy boarded the larger landing craft, which then made for the soft and flowing hues of Dutch Rembrandt. Brunner's last rational thought of that voyage was that planets had been misnamed, since van Gogh at its distance was all of gold and black. * The vessel touched down before the vast, geodesic Headquarters building, after first passing through the airlock of the encircling dome. It took some time before the soldiers in the broad entranceway could be made to understand what was wanted of them in relation to the strange, grizzled and begrimed Captain. The detachment to escort the prisoners they expected, and Liebenstein's name they knew..... Finally after several attempts on the com-line, during which a voice on the other side could be heard to utter clearly, "There must be some mistake," a sympathetic looking officer of indistinguishable rank emerged form an elevator and said: "Group Commander Brunner? Please come with me."