Captain Torkel scratched his stubbled chin. "Six psycho-specimens trying to save humanity. How did we become so detestable? Are all Earthmen like us?" "Don't you remember?" "Remember?" "Yes. How when the U. N. announced about the blowup every interstellar rocket and spaceman in the System was commissioned to discover new worlds. Each ship was given a destination and an interstellar ether-radio to send back its findings. Mechanics and technicians still on Earth were put to work building new rockets to carry the race to its future home--if one were found. We and the _Star Queen_ were at the bottom of the barrel. The oldest ship; the crew that ordinarily would have been grounded." Captain Torkel murmured, "I remember. There were fourteen interstellar ships then. Six cracked up smashing through the Einstein Barrier, according to what we picked up on the ether receiver. The others reached their destinations and not one found a habitable world. And newer ships sent out later had no better luck. Now, all the nearest star systems have been reached, and there isn't time for the ships to go on to other systems. By an ugly little prank of Fate, we're Earth's last chance." He straightened. He pressed the warning buzzer and flicked on the rocket's intercom. "All hands to their crash-chairs," he intoned. II The crewmen appeared in the rear of the control room. Hesitantly, they approached the massive, semicircular control panel with its hundred flashing red and blue lights. Fox was in the lead. "Captain," the small-boned, brown-bearded radarman said solemnly, "can we take a look before we belt down?" "A short one." The men looked. Fox seemed ready to kiss the image of the planet. Van Gundy, wide-eyed, trembled before it as if at any instant it might destroy him. Garcia, the swarthy engineer, glowered at it as though threatening to crush it like an eggshell. "I want Kelly to see this," said Fox. He hurried aft, nervously stroking his beard. An instant later he returned, leading the former radioman by the hand. Kelly's soft blue eyes stared vacantly out of a pink, cherubic face. He was as plump as a dumpling, and his hair was as red as prairie fire. His short body moved woodenly. "Come on, Kelly," said Fox. "You got to see this. Nobody's going to stop you from seeing this, by God." The fire-haired man stood before the magni-screen. Fox pointed. "See it?" Kelly stared. "He can't see it," rumbled Garcia. "He's crazy." "Not too crazy to see this," Fox retorted. Kelly's head bent forward. His lip quivered. "Home," he mumbled. Fox jerked, eyes widening. "Hey, Kelly spoke! Did you hear that? He spoke! First time in two years!" "Home," Kelly mumbled again. "No, not home," Fox explained. "It's the only planet of Sirius." "Hell," said Garcia, "if it'll make him happier, let him think it's Earth." "No, it's the only planet of--" "We can't be saying 'the only planet of Sirius' all the time. We got to give it a name."