I am going to ask
you, Mr. Kenmore, to put through a request that your status be
clarified. I would imagine that your status would mean a rank--hm--about
equivalent to a lieutenant junior grade in the Navy."

Joe grinned.

"I have--ah--prepared a draft you might find helpful," said Brown
earnestly. "It's necessary for something to be done. It's urgent! It's
important!"

"Sorry," said Joe. "The important thing to me is getting ready to load
up the Platform with supplies from Earth. Excuse me."

He went out of the office. He made his way to the quarters assigned
himself and his crew. Mike greeted him with reproachful eyes. Joe waved
his hand.

"Don't say it, Mike! The answer is yes. See that the tanks are refilled,
and new rockets put in place. Then you and Haney go out and practice.
But no farther than ten miles from the Platform. Understand?"

"No!" said Mike rebelliously. "It's a dirty trick!"

"Which," Joe assured him, "I commit only because there's a robot ship
from Bootstrap coming up any time now. And we'll need to pick it up and
tow it here."

He went to the control-room to see if he could get a vision connection
to Earth.

He got the beam, and he got Sally on the screen. A report of the attack
on the Platform had evidently already gone down to Earth. Sally's
expression was somehow drawn and haunted. But she tried to talk lightly.

"Derring-do and stuff, Joe?" she asked. "How does it feel to be a
victorious warrior?"

"It feels rotten," he told her. "There must have been somebody in the
rocket we blew up. He felt like a patriot, I guess, trying to murder us;
But I feel like a butcher."

"Maybe you didn't do it," she said. "Maybe the Chief's bombs----"

"Maybe," said Joe. He hesitated. "Hold up your hand."

She held it up. His ring was still on it. She nodded. "Still there. When
will you be back?"

He shook his head. He didn't know. It was curious that one wanted
so badly to talk to a girl after doing something that was
blood-stirring--and left one rather sickish afterward. This business of
space travel and even space battle was what he'd dreamed of, and he
still wanted it. But it was very comforting to talk to Sally, who hadn't
had to go through any of it.

"Write me a letter, will you?" he asked. "We can't tie up this beam very
long."

"I'll write you all the news that's allowed to go out," she assured him.
"Be seeing you, Joe."

Her image faded from the screen. And, thinking it over, he