"1850 hours," he snorted. "Don't try to wiggle out on that account. You have a half hour." "O.K., if you say so," she shrugged and chewed the inside of her cheek. "This isn't very nice." "Let's not get that way. You coolly slip the shaft in me enough. And stop powdering your nose." Without another word she rose and floated down the aisle, taking little care to suppress her skirt. Somebody whistled and the Commissioner angrily craned his thick neck around. He couldn't see who had done it. But he suspected the three grinning Cadet Astronauts in the last row of seats. [Illustration: _She rose and floated down the aisle, taking little care to suppress her rising, diaphanous skirt._] As the door to the control room clanged shut, the powder-room door clicked open and the rockette tapped out on her iron shoe-soles. Commissioner Elbert rolled his eyes and smiled, but she seemed preoccupied with a smaller female with pigtails and the hiccups. Guess I'll have a look forward myself, he thought. Just like a woman to go up there, wait in the hall a minute and come back. Rising, he floated past the rockette toward the control room door. "Don't open that, sir. The ship's about to separate." "What? It's only 1855 hours." "That is Eastern Standard Time, sir. The clock at the other end of the aisle, over the men's room, gives the Standard Star Time our ship schedule operates on." Those neon hands pointed at 1900. With a strangled yell he lunged for the door, but as his hand closed about the handle something clicked and it resisted his straining and then his pounding fists. A buzzer sounded and a cheery masculine voice spoke over the intercom. "Hello again passengers, this is your pilot Hugh Webley wishing you a pleasant crossing. Please re-enter your safticorsettes. The Bolo II will now separate." "Intercom," the Commissioner shouted. Shoving past the slack-jawed rockette, he literally swam down the gravityless aisle to the engineering hatchway. It opened to his shouts. "Yeah?" A giant with a handlebar mustache peered up at him. "I'm Commissioner Elbert. Call your pilot at once. I order the ship not to separate." * * * * * Hastily the giant lifted the phone. Commissioner Elbert could hear the steady buzz. "Sorry sir, Webley's cut us off. He does that so no one will interrupt him while he's setting the auto controls." "Get him somehow. My wife's up there." The giant coughed and strangled and turned his face away. "I'll keep trying sir," he gasped. "But sometimes he cuts us off for days. He sleeps a lot." "Forehatch," the Commissioner shouted suddenly. "Unlock the forehatch." Wearily the giant clambered up. He towered above Elbert. "Didn't you hear what I said," the Commissioner yelled. "Unlock the door to the control room." "Sorry sir, the lock's automatic." "Well dammit, blast it down." Noisily the giant scratched his crewcut. "Maybe I could crowbar it." "Quick, you fool."