The boy frowned suddenly, and snapped his fingers. "Plumb forgot them. The ship was landing just as I got into town, so I went over to watch it--" he took his place opposite his father at the table, his face brightening again. He didn't see the cloud on his father's face. "And they let us go inside it to look around, dad. I never saw anything like it. You wouldn't believe that they could get such a ship off the ground. Why, even I can remember when it was all they could do to blast off with a little ten-man ship, and now--why, this one is like a yacht. It's the STAR KING, the newest one in Dillon's fleet." George Barlow scowled, the tightness in the pit of his stomach suddenly making his food tasteless. "That's lovely," he said sourly. "They can build them a mile long for all I care. They still aren't fit for rats. At least here you can wash your face if you want to--" He turned back to his plate, hoping the discussion was over, hoping-- "But this one had complete showers, soft bunks, everything. Hydroponic tanks that make the experimental station look like pikers--" "Eat," said George. Tad lapsed into silence, the hearty silence of a hungry nineteen-year-old before a full dinner plate. His father took another mouthful and put down his fork, his appetite gone. He could feel the tension growing, the tightness of his breathing. He sensed his wife's apprehension as she too slowed and stopped eating. As if she, too, were waiting-- "Saw Len Cooper when he came off the ship, too, dad. Do you remember Len? This was his first cruise." Tad's eyes sparkled. "He says there's nothing like it, that Rocket life. They stopped on Venus, you know, and then did a reconnaissance in toward the Mercury orbit before they came back. Almost five years away from Earth! They've got a stack of reports as big as an almanac for printing. And Len--you know how scrawny he was? He's put on muscle now. Looks great." Tad put down his fork, a subtle change in his voice, his hand trembling. "We had a long talk, dad. Len says--" "Len Cooper's a fool!" George Barlow's voice snapped irritably. "He hasn't got all his marbles. A kid like that--all the potential in the world--brains, opportunity--and what does he do with it? Shoots it into Rockets! First cruise, huh? It isn't his last, by a long shot. Those Rocket boys aren't stupid. They know it takes a good cruise to teach a youngster his way around out there. He can't begin to work for his wages until the second cruise, or the third. And then it's too late to come back--"