ne. Fear that
whatever decision you made would be the wrong one and the Promotion
Board would pass you by. So you carefully avoided making any decisions
at all. He had been the same way himself. You salved your lack of guts
with the knowledge that once you made captain, things would be different
and you could assert yourself, be the man you had always considered
yourself to be. Only once you became a captain things didn't change a
bit, because then you were trying to get the Promotion Board to
recommend you for Admiral. The only men in the Navy who had any guts
were the young men who didn't know any better and the old bastards who
had made Admiral and no longer had any ambition as far as rank went.

* * * * *

He turned to McCandless. "You, Lieutenant?"

McCandless licked dry lips.

"I think it's from out in space, sir. Maybe it's an exploration party,
but more than likely it's an armed scouting party."

"What makes you say that?"

McCandless leaned forward, his concern over his cup of coffee
momentarily forgotten. "I think if it was an exploration party they
would have stopped at some point of civilization first. In all
likelihood a city, a big city. But we've received no reports of any ship
landing near a city. At least, not yet." He paused, a little
self-consciously. "It wouldn't be difficult to tell that we're part of
the fighting forces of this planet, and I think it's just luck that it
chose the _Josef_ instead of us. I think the alien ship is investigating
the _Josef_. Or will shortly."

Davis lit a cigarette, a half amused smile on his face. "For what
purpose?"

"To test the armament. See how good we are on the defensive."

"What do you think they want?" the Captain asked curiously.

McCandless hesitated, then blurted it out.

"The whole world, sir!"

* * * * *

At oh five hundred the sun was just breaking over the horizon, coating
the heavy green seas with a soft covering of pink gold. It was going to
be another hot day, the Captain thought, one where the heat stood off
the water in little waves and the sweat ran down your back and soaked
your khakis. And with GQ, the rubber life jackets would make it about
ten times as bad.

He stood on the bridge for a moment, admiring the sunrise and smelling
the brisk salt air, then walked into the wheelhouse.

The drone plane had been up for half an hour. By this time it should
have a clearer