The look-out's voice came excitedly over the intercom. "SP ship! SP ship! And her nose is red!" And her nose is red! Cut rockets or we'll blow you out of the universe. This was no routine SP check--that would have called for a yellow signal at the Space Patrol ship's bow. _It_ wanted to know what was the matter. Kent could feel its thought fingers searching hurriedly through his mind. And when it didn't find an answer it grew almost frantic in its headlong scrabbling. Kent Knight's mind was chuckling. He couldn't tell the Thing why, because he didn't know himself! The muted thunder of the rockets to which his mind and ears had accustomed themselves suddenly cut out as Captain Hansen switched off the cycs. Then there was a long moment of almost hurting silence, then the bow rockets began to fire and slow the ship. The bow rockets ceased too, finally, and the silence came again. But all the while, Kent Knight's Thing was trying to find an answer. Sammy came plowing into the mess, a sloshing bottle in one hand, his bald head glistening, his big nose twitching. He said to Kent, "I knew it was too good to be true. I was just sitting in my cubicle looking out and I saw the Moon. I conjectured that perhaps our exile had come to a premature end. But then that damn SP ship showed up." Knight couldn't stop his mind quick enough. The Thing caught it in mid-flight, and stopped scrabbling. "So that is why. This is a prison ship and can come only so close to Earth. For a moment, I believed you Earthmen were stronger mentally than you are." Hell, I should have known, Knight thought. This is the _Star Climber_. It's never been back to Earth since its maiden launching. It's not a prison ship exactly, just a place to live while you serve out your years of separation from Earth. And only an Earthman can know the poignant loneliness that comes when he is kept from seeing and smelling and hearing the loveliness of the planet that bore him. Five years of an indefinable torture--five years of loneliness and a sense of loss so deep that it brings you from sleep, screaming for Earth like a kid in the dark begs for his mother. You go aboard the _Star Climber_ or one of her sisters. They load you and supplies aboard. They salute you even in your punishment--you and the others who are serving the same sentences. Just before you step through the spacelock, you look up and see the beauty of Earth above you. You look down at the Moon's dusty plain. And you set forth on your Odyssey of punishment. You can go anywhere you please. You can settle anywhere--on any planet. You can do anything you damn please so long as you stay half a million miles from Earth for the period of your sentence. If you come closer than that, the SP ships will blow you into eternity if you do not heed them when their noses are red. Like now. Kent Knight strode to the viewplate and clicked it on.