Tom and Dorothy flitted in to the table, hand in hand, still absorbed in the wonder of being together, scarcely aware of the world about them, then left, without finishing their dessert. Alan and Tanya looked after them with affectionate amusement, but Professor Larrabee seemed withdrawn and a little sad, as though they evoked memories of a time now lost to him forever. "They make me feel so _old_!" said Tanya. "And lonely?" "Perhaps, a little. They seem so sure, somehow, that all the rest of their lives will be just as happy as this, always." "And why not?" said Professor Larrabee. The orchestra swayed into a final soft chord, and immediately a voice spoke from a loudspeaker in the ceiling. "Ladies and gentlemen!" Conversation stopped, the room became quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen. The customary lifeboat drill will be held this afternoon at 1600 hours. The attendance of all passengers is requested." The voice stopped, the orchestra resumed its playing, and the passengers sipped their coffee. "I wonder why he said 'customary'?" said Tanya. "We've been out about three weeks, and this will be the first drill we've had. Do you suppose something is wrong?" "I'm afraid your sense of the dramatic gets the better of you," said Alan. "What could be wrong with the _Star Lord_?" "Maybe her name," murmured Professor Larrabee, and his eyes looked haunted. * * * * * Solitary at his table, Burl Jasperson sipped at a glass of ice water as he pondered. For the first time in his life he was not quite sure what course to follow. He wanted that Blue Ribbon for the Star Line, and yet--he did not know what to do. While he listened to the announcement of the lifeboat drill, his lip twisted in contempt. Just like Josiah Evans, he thought, to be over-cautious and run the risk of starting a panic. Still thinking, he left the dining room and went to the main lounge to study the illuminated map of the ship. The three-dimensional panorama showed the slim and elegant body of the _Star Lord_, tapered like a silver spindle. Six small ships, three on each side of the long axis, each capable of carrying 250 people, were fastened into her hulk. Seemingly a part of the ship itself, their outer walls forming a part of the ship's wall, they were designed to be detached at the touch of a button, and launched into space as free craft. When the warning bells rang, he joined the crowd of passengers who were assigned to Boat F, peered at the boat through the transparent panel, and listened attentively to the instructions. It was Steward Davis, he noted approvingly, who was in charge.