When the cargo had been stowed, the cadets gathered in the wardroom. Henry Belt appeared from the master’s cubicle. “Gentlemen, how do you like the surroundings? Eh, Mr. Culpepper?”

  “The hull is commodious, sir. The view is superb.”

  Henry Belt nodded. “Mr. Lynch? Your impressions?”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t sorted them out yet, sir.”

  “I see. You, Mr. Sutton?”

  “Space is larger than I imagined it, sir.”

  “True. Space is unimaginable. A good spaceman must either be larger than space or he must ignore it. Both difficult. Well, gentlemen, I will make a few comments, then I will retire and enjoy the voyage. Since this is my last time out, I intend to do nothing whatever. The operation of the ship will be completely in your hands. I will merely appear from time to time to beam benevolently about or alas! to make remarks in my red book. Nominally I shall be in command, but you six will enjoy complete control over the ship. If you return as safely to Earth I will make an approving entry in my red book. If you wreck us or fling us into the sun, you will be more unhappy than I, since it is my destiny to die in space. Mr. von Gluck, do I perceive a smirk on your face?”

  “No, sire, it is a thoughtful half-smile.”

  “What is humorous in the concept of my demise, may I ask?”

  “It will be a great tragedy, sir. I merely was reflecting upon the contemporary persistence of, well, not exactly superstition, but, let us say, the conviction of a subjective cosmos.”

  Henry Belt made a notation in the red book. “Whatever is meant by this barbaric jargon I’m sure I don’t know, Mr. von Gluck. It is clear that you fancy yourself a philosopher and dialectician. I will not fault this, so long as your remarks conceal no overtones of malice and insolence, to which I am extremely sensitive. Now as to the persistence of superstition, only an impoverished mind considers itself the repository of absolute knowledge. Hamlet spoke on the subject to Horatio, as I recall, in the well-known work by William Shakespeare. I myself have seen strange and terrifying sights. Were they hallucinations? Were they the manipulation of the cosmos by my mind or the mind of someone—or something—other than myself? I do not know. I therefore counsel a flexible attitude toward matters where the truth is still unknown. For this reason: the impact of an inexplicable experience may well destroy a mind which is too brittle. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly, sir.”

  “Very good. To return, then. We shall set a system of watches whereby each man works in turn with each of the other five. I thereby hope to discourage the formation of special friendships, or cliques.

  “You have inspected the ship. The hull is a sandwich of lithium-beryllium, insulating foam, fiber, and an interior skin. Very light, held rigid by air pressure rather than by any innate strength of the material. We can therefore afford enough space to stretch our legs and provide all of us with privacy.

  “The master’s cubicle is to the left; under no circumstances is anyone permitted in my quarters. If you wish to speak to me, knock on my door. If I appear, good. If I do not appear, go away. To the right are six cubicles which you may now distribute among yourselves by lot.

  “You schedule will be two hours study, four hours on watch, six hours off. I will require no specific rate of study progress, but I recommend that you make good use of your time.

  “Our destination is Mars. We will presently construct a new sail, then while orbital velocity builds up, you will carefully test and check all equipment aboard. Each of you will compute sail cant and course and work out among yourselves any discrepancies which may appear. I shall take no hand in navigation. I prefer that you involve me in no disaster. If any such occurs I shall severely mark down the persons responsible.

  “Singing, whistling, humming, are forbidden. I disapprove of fear and hysteria, and mark accordingly. No one dies more than once; we are well aware of the risks of this, our chosen occupation. There will be no practical jokes. You may fight, so long as you do not disturb me or break any instruments; however, I counsel against it, as it leads to resentment, and I have known cadets to kill each other. I suggest coolness and detachment in your personal relations. Use of the microfilm projector is of course at your own option. You may not use the radio either to dispatch or receive messages. In fact, I have put the radio out of commission, as is my practice. I do this to emphasize the fact that, sink or swim, we must make do with our own resources. Are there any questions?…Very good. You will find that if you all behave with scrupulous correctness and accuracy, we shall in due course return safe and sound, with a minimum of demerits and no casualties. I am bound to say, however, that in twelve previous voyages this has failed to occur. Now you select your cubicles, stow your gear. The carrier will bring up the new sail tomorrow, and you will go to work.”

  III

  The carrier discharged a great bundle of three-inch tubing: paper-thin lithium hardened with beryllium, reinforced with filaments of mono-crystalline iron—a total length of eight miles. The cadets fitted the tubes end to end, cementing the joints. When the tube extended a quarter-mile it was bent bow-shaped by a cord stretched between two ends, and further sections added. As the process continued, the free end curved far out and around, and began to veer back in toward the hull. When the last tube was in place the loose end was hauled down, socketed home, to form a great hoop two and a half miles in diameter.

  Henry Belt came out occasionally in his space suit to look on, and occasionally spoke a few words of sardonic comment, to which the cadets paid little heed. Their mood had changed; this was exhilaration, to be weightlessly afloat above the bright cloud-marked globe, with continent and ocean wheeling massively below. Anything seemed possible, even the training voyage with Henry Belt! When he came out to inspect their work, they grinned at each other with indulgent amusement. Henry Belt suddenly seemed a rather pitiful creature, a poor vagabond suited only for drunken bluster. Fortunate indeed that they were less naive than Henry Belt’s previous classes! They had taken Belt seriously; he had cowed them, reduced them to nervous pulp. Not this crew, not by a long shot! They saw through Henry Belt! Just keep your nose clean, do your work, keep cheerful. The training voyage won’t last but a few months, and then real life begins. Gut it out, ignore Henry Belt as much as possible. This is the sensible attitude; the best way to keep on top of the situation.

  Already the group had made a composite assessment of its members, arriving at a set of convenient labels. Culpepper: smooth, suave, easy* going. Lynch: excitable, argumentative, hot-tempered. Von Gluck: the artistic temperament, delicate with hands and sensibilities. Ostrander: prissy, finicky, over-tidy. Sutton: moody, suspicious, competitive. Verona: the plugger, rough at the edges, but persistent and reliable.

  Around the hull swung the gleaming hoop, and now the carrier brought up the sail, a great roll of darkly shining stuff. When unfolded and unrolled, and unfolded many times more it became a tough, gleaming film, flimsy as gold leaf. Unfolded to its fullest extent it was a shimmering disk, already rippling and bulging to the light of the sun. The cadets fitted the film to the hoop, stretched it taut as a drumhead, cemented it in place. Now the sail must carefully be held edge on to the sun or it would quickly move away, under a thrust of about a hundred pounds.

  From the rim braided-iron threads were led through a ring at the back of the parabolic reflector, dwarfing this as the reflector dwarfed the hull, and now the sail was ready to move.

  The carrier brought up a final cargo: water, food, spare parts, a new magazine for the microfilm viewer, mail. Then Henry Belt said, “Make sail.”

  This was the process of turning the sail to catch the sunlight while the hull moved around Earth away from the sun, canting it parallel to the sun rays when the ship moved on the sunward leg of its orbit; in short, building up an orbital velocity which in due course would stretch loose the bonds of terrestrial gravity and send Sail 25 kiting out toward Mars.

  During this period the cadets checked every item of equipment aboard the vessel. They grimaced with disgust and dismay at some of the instruments: 25 was an old ship, with antiquated gear. Henry Belt seemed to enjoy their grumbling. “This is a training voyage, not a pleasure cruise. If you wanted your noses wiped, you should have taken a post on the ground. And, I have no sympathy for fault-finders. If you wish a model by which to form your own conduct, observe me.”

  The moody, introspective Sutton, usually the most diffident and laconic of individuals, ventured an ill-advised witticism. “If we modeled ourselves after you, sir, there’d be no room to move for the whisky.”

  Out came the red book. “Extraordinary impudence, Mr. Sutton. How can you yield so easily to malice?”

  Sutton flushed pink; his eyes glistened, he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it firmly. Henry Belt, waiting, politely expectant, turned away. “You gentlemen will perceive that I rigorously obey my own rules of conduct. I am regular as a clock. There is no better, more genial shipmate than Henry Belt. There is no fairer man alive. Mr. Culpepper, you have a remark to make?”

  “Nothing of consequence, sir.”

  Henry Belt went to the port, glared out at the sail. He swung around instantly. “Who is on watch?”

  “Sutton and Ostrander, sir.”

  “Gentlemen, have you noticed the sail? It has swung about and is canting to show its back to the sun. In another ten minutes we shall be tangled in a hundred miles of guy wires.”

  Sutton and Ostrander sprang to repair the situation. Henry Belt shook his head disparagingly. “This is precisely what is meant by the words ‘negligence’ and ‘inattentiveness.’ You two have committed a serious error. This is poor spacemanship. The sail must always be in such a position as to hold the wires taut.”

  “There seems to be something wrong with the sensor, sir,” Sutton blurted. “It should notify us when the sail swings behind us.”

  “If fear I must charge you an additional demerit for making excuses, Mr. Sutton. It is your duty to assure yourself that all the warning devices are functioning properly, at all times. Machinery must never be used as a substitute for vigilance.”

  Ostrander looked up from the control console. “Someone has turned off the switch, sir. I do not offer this as an excuse, but as an explanation.”

  “The line of distinction is often hard to define, Mr. Ostrander. Please bear in mind my remarks on the subject of vigilance.”

  “Yes, sir, but—who turned off the switch?”

  “Both you and Mr. Sutton are theoretically hard at work watching for any such accident or occurrence. Did you not observe it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I almost accuse you of further inattention and neglect, in this case.”

  Ostrander gave Henry Belt a long dubious side-glance. “The only person I recall going near the console is yourself, sir. I’m sure you wouldn’t do such a thing.”

  Henry Belt shook his head sadly. “In space you must never rely on anyone for rational conduct. A few moments ago Mr. Sutton unfairly imputed to me an unusual thirst for whiskey. Suppose this were the case? Suppose, as an example of pure irony, that I had indeed been drinking whisky, that I was in fact drunk?”

  “I will agree, sir, that anything is possible.”

  Henry Belt shook his head again. “This is the type of remark, Mr.

  Ostrander, that I have come to associate with Mr. Culpepper. A better response would have been, ‘In the future, I will try to be ready for any conceivable contingency.’ Mr. Sutton, did you make a hissing sound between your teeth?”

  “I was breathing, sir.”

  “Please breathe with less vehemence.”

  Henry Belt turned away and wandered back and forth about the wardroom, scrutinizing cases, frowning at smudges on polished metal. Ostrander muttered something to Sutton, and both watched Henry Belt closely as he moved here and there. Presently Henry Belt lurched toward them. “You show great interest in my movements, gentlemen.”

  “We were on the watch for another unlikely contingency, sir.”

  “Very good, Mr. Ostrander. Stick with it. In space nothing is impossible. I’ll vouch for this personally.”

  IV

  Henry Belt sent all hands out to remove the paint from the surface of the parabolic reflector. When this had been accomplished, incident sunlight was focused upon an expanse of photoelectric cells. The power so generated was used to operate plasma jets, expelling ions collected by the vast expanse of sail, further accelerating the ship, thrusting it ever out into an orbit of escape. And finally one day, at an exact instant dictated by the computer, the ship departed from Earth and floated tangentially out into space, off at an angle for the orbit of Mars. At an acceleration of g/100 velocity built up rapidly. Earth dwindled behind; the ship was isolated in space. The cadets’ exhilaration vanished, to be replaced by an almost funereal solemnity. The vision of Earth dwindling and retreating is an awesome symbol, equivalent to eternal loss, to the act of dying itself. The more impressionable cadets—Sutton, von Gluck, Ostrander—could not look astern without finding their eyes swimming with tears. Even the suave Culpepper was awed by the magnificence of the spectacle, the sun an aching pit not to be tolerated, Earth a plump pearl rolling on black velvet among a myriad glittering diamonds. And away from Earth, away from the sun, opened an exalted magnificence of another order entirely. For the first time the cadets became dimly aware that Henry Belt had spoken truly of strange visions. Here was death, here was peace, solitude, star-blazing beauty which promised not oblivion in death, but eternity…Streams and spatters of stars…The familiar constellations, the stars with their prideful names presenting themselves like heroes: Achemar, Fomalhaut, Sadal, Suud, Canopus…

  Sutton could not bear to look into the sky. “It’s not that I feel fear,” he told von Gluck, “or yes, perhaps it is fear. It sucks at me, draws me out there—I suppose in due course I’ll become accustomed to it.”

  ‘I’m not so sure,” said von Gluck. “I wouldn’t be surprised if space could become a psychological addiction, a need—so that whenever you walked on Earth you felt hot and breathless.”

  Life settled into a routine. Henry Belt no longer seemed a man, but a capricious aspect of nature, like storm or lightning; and like some natural cataclysm. Henry Belt showed no favoritism, nor forgave one jot or tittle of offense. Apart from the private cubicles, no place on the ship escaped his attention. Always he reeked of whisky, and it became a matter of covert speculation as to exactly how much whiskey he had brought aboard. But no matter how he reeked or how he swayed on his feet, his eyes remained clever and steady, and he spoke without slurring in his paradoxically clear, sweet voice.

  One day he seemed slightly drunker than usual, and ordered all hands into space suits and out to inspect the sail for meteoric puncture. The order seemed sufficiently odd that the cadets stared at him in disbelief. “Gentlemen, you hesitate, you fail to exert yourselves, you luxuriate in sloth. Do you fancy yourselves at the Riviera? Into the space suits, on the double, and everybody into space. Check hoop, sail, reflector, struts, and sensor. You will be adrift for two hours. When you return I want a comprehensive report. Mr. Lynch, I believe you are in charge on this watch. You will present the report.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “One more matter. You will notice that the sail is slightly bellied by the continual radiation pressure. It therefore acts as a focusing device, the focal point presumably occurring behind the cab. But this is not a matter to be taken for granted. I have seen a man burnt to death in such a freak accident. Bear this in mind.”

  For two hours the cadets drifted through space, propelled by tanks of gas and thrust tubes. All enjoyed the experience except Sutton, who found himself appalled by the immensity of emotions. Probably least affected was the practical Verona, who inspected the sail with a care exacting enough even to satisfy Henry Belt.

  The next day the computer went wrong. Ostrander was in charge of the watch and knocked on Henry Belt’s door to make the report.

  Henry Belt appeared in the doorway. He apparently had been asleep. “What is the difficulty, Mr. Ostrander?”

  “We’re in trouble, sir. The computer has gone out.”

  Henry Belt rubbed his grizzled pate. “This is not an unusual cicumstance. We prepare for this contingency by schooling all cadets thoroughly in computer design and repair. Have you identified the difficulty?”

  “The bearings which suspend the data separation disks have broken.

  The shaft has several millimeters’ play and as a result there is total confusion in the data presented to the analyzer.”

  “An interesting problem. Why do you present it to me?”

  “I thought you should be notified, sir. I don’t believe we carry spares for this particular bearing.”

  Henry Belt shook his head sadly. “Mr. Ostrander, do you recall my statement at the beginning of this voyage, that you six gentlemen are totally responsible for the navigation of the ship?”

  “Yes, sir. But—”

  “This is an applicable situation. You must either repair the computer or perform the calculations yourself.”

  “Very well, sir. I will do my best.”

  V

  Lynch, Verona, Ostrander, and Sutton disassembled the mechanism, removed the worn bearing. “Confounded antique!” said Lynch. “Why can’t they give us decent equipment? Or if they want to kill us, why not shoot us and save us all trouble.”

  “We’re not dead yet,” said Verona. “You’ve looked for a spare?”

  “Naturally. There’s nothing remotely like this.”

  Verona looked at the bearing dubiously. “I suppose we could cast a babbitt sleeve and machine it to fit. That’s what we’ll have to do—unless you fellows are awfully fast with your math.”

  Sutton glanced out the port, quickly turned away his eyes. “I wonder if we should cut sail.”