through sheer semantic inadequacy.

The young man might have spent his time more profitably in a little
research on the biology or social organization of the Flimbotzik,
Iversen thought bitterly when he had calmed down, thus saving the next
expedition some work. But, instead, he'd been blinded by the flashy
theological aspects of the culture and, as a result, the whole crew had
gone metempsychotic.

This was going to be one of the _Herringbone's_ more unendurable
voyages, Iversen knew. And he couldn't put his foot down effectively,
either, because the crew, all being gentlemen of independent means now,
were outrageously independent.

However, in spite of knowing that all of them fully deserved what they
got, Iversen couldn't help feeling guilty as he ate steak while the
other officers consumed fish, vegetables and eggs in an aura of
unbearable virtue.

"But if the soul transmigrates and not the body," he argued, "what harm
is there in consuming the vacated receptacle?"

"For all you know," the first officer said, averting his eyes from
Iversen's plate with a little--wholly gratuitous, to the captain's
mind--shudder, "that cow might have housed the psyche of your
grandmother."

"Well, then, by indirectly participating in that animal's slaughter, I
have released my grandmother from her physical bondage to advance to the
next plane. That is, if she was a good cow."

"You just don't understand," Harkaway said. "Not that you could be
expected to."

"He's a clod," the radio operator agreed. "Forgive me, sir," he
apologized as Iversen turned to glare incredulously at him, "but,
according to _mpoola_, candor is a Step Upward."

"Onward and Upward," Harkaway commented, and Iversen was almost sure
that, had he not been there, the men would have bowed their heads in
contemplation, if not actual prayer.

* * * * *

As time went on, the greech thrived and grew remarkably stout on the
Earth viands, which it consumed in almost improbable quantities. Then,
one day, it disappeared and its happy squeal was heard no longer.

There was much mourning aboard the _Herringbone_--for, with its lovable
personality and innocently engaging ways, the little fellow had won its
way into the hearts of all the spacemen--until the first officer
discovered a substantial pink cocoon resting on the ship's control board
and rushed to the intercom to spread the glad tidings. That was a breach
of regulations, of