"Just remember, you two," Stevens warned, "this is your first flight as Ensigns. It's strictly a probation period. A word from me can cancel out that diploma you received from Space Academy, Ensign Allen. And wipe that grin from _your_ face, Mr. Wright. You may have spent the last ten years working yourself up through the ranks, but your appointment as Ensign is also subject to my report at the end of this tour of duty." Both men, standing stiffly at attention, muttered, "Yes, sir." "You both are officers. Now act like you're supposed to. We should sight the Regis in the next hour. I'm assigning you both to the scanning screens. The minute either of you see the Regis, let me know. I'm going to do the rounds and make sure all equipment is ready." As soon as Stevens left, Bull and Skip went to the tiny cubbyhole called the Vision Room which was located just off Main Control. There they sat back to back in chairs fixed in the middle of the room. This gave each of them a half circle to keep track of. Between them, they had a full view of the ship's entire surroundings. Sitting there, surrounded by screens, it was easy to imagine that they were afloat in the chromosphere without a ship deck under them. * * * * * Several times the forward motion of their ship carried them close to sunspots. These were carefully skirted before the ship entered the penumbra. The dark appearing central area of each spot, the umbra, yawned like monster pits into an area of magnetic forces that ships avoided if possible unless they were nuclei dredges or contact vessels especially constructed to enter the vortex. Twice they ran through loop-like spaces that appeared on their filtered screens. These were caused by prominences of exploding hydrogen shooting tens of thousands of miles into space. Prominences, the tips of which looped back to the sun's surface. "By the horned three legged elephants of Callisto," muttered Bull as the ship shot through another loop. "I feel like an astronomical ball being shot through loops of an intergalactic croquet game." As the Cerebus III skittered to the left to avoid another racing faculae, Skip felt his stomach begin to get as unsteady as the ship's deck. He groaned out loud. And for the first time since he sat down, he jerked his strained eyes from the screens only to meet Bull grinning at him. "What's the matter, Space Cadet?" Bull jibbed. "Don't tell me all that training of yours didn't include a course in how NOT to get space sick?" Skip swallowed hurriedly before he spoke. "How this garbage collecting tub can stand this buffeting, I can't figure." "Nothing wrong with her," Bull rejoined. "Just because you thought that you'd get assigned to some fancy interstellar luxury ship when you graduated, you don't have to take out your disappointment on the Cerebus III. Stop making a good ship your alibi for--"