He put his elbows on his knees and twined his hands before his face. "Not for you, Johnny. For you and Marte, and the rest of the Twenty-first Generation, that's different. I mean for us old timers. When you're twenty, there's a new world ahead; when you're fifty--it's not ahead any more. How will it seem to us?" The Captain shook his head slowly. "It'll sure seem funny to give this up. This room here, where I've worked all these years. This view--" He waved his hand toward the Observation window. "This view clear into Infinity." Johnny Nine crossed the room and stood before the window. He gazed into space. Without turning, he began to talk. There was no excitement in his voice, only calm certainty. "Think, Captain: think of other things. Think of trees and running water and blue sky. Think of green grass, real green grass, acres and acres of it, swaying in the wind. Think of that." The Captain smiled. "Ah, youth, Johnny.... If it had been forty years ago--or thirty--or even ten.... But now...." He shrugged. "We're old and set in our ways. We think of rest and of the familiar." Johnny Nine still did not turn. "Imagine sitting on a chair, on a porch, facing out to the woods, across a field of corn. Imagine the neighborhood kids gathering about you, and you telling them how you were on the Interstellar Flight. How you came back from the stars." "Perhaps, Johnny, perhaps.... Perhaps...." The Mate jammed full power into the heavy transmitter. "I hope these tubes hold," he said matter-of-factly. "I couldn't find the replacements." The Captain came back from his thoughts. "Did you make a check of the Parts Index?" he asked. "Sure. They're supposed to be in Compartment Four. Couldn't find them there. Some crazy fool probably made baby rattles out of them a hundred and fifty years ago." "I'll send someone to see if you overlooked them. You want to go, Johnny?" "I'll look, sure. Compartment Four, Skippy?" "Supposed to be." The Mate turned back to the radio. "Hello, Earth.... Hello, Earth.... Hello, Earth.... This is Interstellar Flight One.... Interstellar Flight One, inside Pluto.... Hello, Earth, this is--" Johnny Nine closed the door behind him and left the cramped room. * * * * * In Compartment Four Johnny Nine switched on the lights; the large center bulb flared blue and the filaments fused. That left the compartment in gloom. Slowly the Ship was growing old. It no longer functioned as smoothly as before; its spare parts stock was running low. Bulbs were rationed and three whole levels were in continual darkness. The long night was creeping in, as if the jet of space was slowly digesting the interloper. "Sit down, Johnny. Old Sam wants to talk to you." Johnny Nine dropped his hand from the switch and turned. "Oh? Oh, Sam.... Where did you come from?"