General Forester introduced them: Mort Haines, the chubby, burr-headed mechanic; tall, thin-faced Lieutenant Fox, chief pilot; navigator-radiation officer Lieutenant Swenson—big, blond and Swedish; small, prematurely balding Goode, the medic; and lastly the youngest of them all, the one who made the greatest impression on Rob. His name was Clay Gerard, a “sputter” or graduated space cadet without a rating, who would fill in on odd jobs which did not fall under the province of his more experienced companions. Clay extended a big palm to Rob. His grip crushed Rob’s hand. Rob looked into his expressive blue eyes and thought he detected some amusement in them. Rob marveled at the boy’s muscle-padded shoulders, thinking how well he would fit into somebody’s football backfield. Then it came to him suddenly that Clay had done just that, and exceptionally well. “Aren’t you last season’s triple-threat star at Space Academy?” Rob asked. “That’s me,” Clay answered. “I hear you ran your opponents ragged, Clay,” Rob said. “I hope you help us take care of our present enemy the same way.” “I’ll do my part,” Clay said. “I don’t like to blow my own horn, but I was champ in every sport I entered. That ought to qualify me for this team, shouldn’t it?” His lips twisted in a bantering grin. General Forester broke in. “Please observe service courtesy, Cadet Gerard, and address Lieutenant Allison as ‘sir.’” “Yes, sir,” Clay replied. He looked at Rob. “You and I must be about the same age—sir.” The subtly prolonged final word did not escape Rob. Something warned him that he might have a mildly rebellious spirit in his crew. “I believe so,” Rob returned, “and I’m sure both of us will act our ages on this project. The future of our planet depends on it.” “I know, sir,” Clay answered with unexpected soberness that made Rob hope he had misjudged him. The crew was briefed in detail on the facts of Operation Big Boy from the moment they would depart from Luna to the final act of guiding the last cosmic missile into their antagonist. After this, the crew was dismissed to attend to their final affairs and get some hours of rest. Later, Rob heard that a girl by the name of Gerard was working in the communications office, and he went over to see if she were any kin to Clay. Clay had left before he had heard her name spoken, so he couldn’t find out from him. He found auburn-topped Dulcie Gerard at the transspace radio switchboard handling a communication between a lonely doctor on Mars and his wife back on Earth. When it was over, she switched off and turned to Rob with tears in her brown eyes. “Can I help you?” she asked. “You’re crying,” Rob said. She smiled prettily. “It was that conversation I had on the board. It touched me, the way they talked.” Suddenly the girl stared at him so intently that he found himself blushing. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but aren’t you Lieutenant Allison?” “Guilty,” he said.