THE BRAVE WALK ALONE By John McGreevey He was a coward not only in the eyes of his men but his father as well. Yet sometimes fear can be mistaken for the honor badge of great courage.... [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy December 1950 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Dirk Jemson pressed his forehead against the cool metal of the astro-chart and hoped that he was not going to be sick. At any moment, the space cruiser would be entering the gravity field of Caliban, and if he were ordered to assume control ... he shuddered at the prospect. Around him in the cabin, the other members of the crew went quietly about their duties. Allen, the astrogator worked over his charts and calculations; Kennedy, the atochanic squinted worriedly at the readings on his gauges; Tabor, the biophysicist was engrossed in a book. They were men handling routine assignments automatically. If they felt any of the fear, the impending nausea which constricted Dirk's stomach, they gave no outward indication of it. He straightened himself and closed his eyes. These others were at home out in space, unperturbed by the thought that they were rushing now at the speed of light toward an unknown world, the dark satellite of Caliban. They could not understand this space sickness which held him in a vise. They were like his father. Dirk looked apprehensively toward the audio-visor above Allen's head. Momentarily, his father's face would blur into that screen; his father's voice would saw into the quiet of the cabin with a command. And all of these men would come to attention and listen, for this would be the face and voice of Commandant Jemson--Terra's most renowned and daring space explorer. Dirk's gaze roamed the cabin. These others--Allen, Kennedy--even Tabor who was only an observer--would listen to the words of the Commandant; but they would know that his message was meant only for Dirk. Dirk Jemson--the Commandant's son. Wave upon wave of the sickness swept over him and he fought desperately against the impulse to call out for help. He imagined the surprise on their faces as they assisted him, and then, afterward, the polite pretense that nothing had happened. Why couldn't they leave him on Terra, doing the things he wanted to do--the things he could do well? He was an alien here. He had been an alien in the Service from the beginning. The agonizing days at the strato-school on Mars still stood vividly in his memory.