hed
hanging up the tie, gave it a little pat, and continued cheerfully.

"We saw most of the world, in the fifty years we had together. The last
trip she made with me, to the Moon and back, was in some ways the
pleasantest of all. After we returned, we started planning and saving
and dreaming of making one last grand tour outside the solar system. And
then--well, she was more than seventy, and I try to think that she isn't
dead, that she just started the last tour a little ahead of me. That's
why I'm making this jaunt now, the one we planned on the _Star Lord_.
It's lonely, in a way, but she wouldn't have wanted me to give up and
stay home, just because I had to go on alone."

* * * * *

Glancing at Alan's bent head, Professor Larrabee abruptly banged shut
the lid of his empty suitcase and shoved it into the conveyor port in
the wall to shoot it down to Luggage. Then he straightened up and
rumpled his white hair.

"That's done, young man. Will you join me in the Bar for a spacecap?"

"Sorry, sir. I'm very tired. I just want to rest and be quiet."

"But a frothed whiskey would help you to relax. Come along, and let me
buy you a final drink before we take off for eternity."

Alan noticed with distaste the white carnation in the coat lapel of his
companion. "I hardly like to think of this trip as being synonymous with
eternity," he said. "You sound as though you didn't expect to come
back."

"Do I? Perhaps I made an unfortunate choice of words. But do you believe
in premonitions, Dr. Chase?"

"No. All premonitions stem from indigestion."

"No doubt you are right. But from the moment of boarding this ship I
have been haunted by the memory of an extremely vivid story I once
read."

"What kind of a story?"

"Oh, it was a scientific romance, one of those impossible flights of
fancy they used to publish in my boyhood, about the marvels of future
science. This was in the days before we had got outside the solar
system, but I still remember the tale, for it was about a spaceship
which was wrecked on its first voyage."

"But there've been hundreds of other such stories! Why should this
particular one be bothering you now?"

"Well, you see," said the professor apologetically, "it's because of the
name. The coincidence of names. This other ship, the one in the
story--it was called the _Star Lord_."

"I wouldn't let that worry me. Surely it's a logical name for a
spaceship?"

Profe