2

Senior Lieutenant George Hanlon opened the designated door and stepped
through into the next office. A grey-haired man, wearing the Twin Comets
of a Regional Admiral, was sitting behind a desk, studying some papers.
He continued sitting thus, the papers held so they hid his face,
apparently so intent on his work he had not noticed anyone entering.

But Hanlon instinctively knew better, and stood stiffly at attention,
awaiting the other's pleasure. Soon the man lowered the papers ... and
Hanlon gasped,

"Da...". His mouth snapped shut, and his eyes became swiftly hostile at
remembrance of the hate he had carried all these years on account of
this man. He wanted to stalk out, but ingrained discipline chained him
to the spot. His voice, though, was very cold when he spoke. "Senior
Lieutenant George Hanlon reporting, sir."

The big man was a startling older edition of the newly-appointed
lieutenant, only grey where the latter was blond, assured from long,
bitter experience where the other was as yet untried. Now he rose to his
feet, acknowledging the salute.

"At ease. I can imagine your surprise at seeing me," and if there was a
hurt look on his face at sight of that implacable hatred in his son's
eyes and demeanor, he could not be blamed. "However, I think your
experience of the past hour might have prepared you for sight of me in
uniform. Yes," as he saw the sudden surprise in the young man's eyes,
"that was the reason for my apparent disgrace. I hope you will forgive
me, now that you know why it was necessary."

"Of course," stiffly punctilious, "only," his eyes were still hard and
stormy, "was it important enough to break mother's heart?"

The older man's voice grew soft and shook with genuine emotion. "You and
everyone had to believe that, Spence, all these years. I've been
prayerfully waiting for the day when I could explain to you. I can
assure you, Son," with all the sincerity his voice could carry, "that
she did not die of a broken ..."

"I know bet ..."

"You do not know better!" his father interrupted sternly. "Please wait
until I finish explaining. No, Spence," his voice was still, emphatic
but softer now, almost pleading. "She knew and approved. Your mother was
one of Earth's greatest heroines."

Hanlon was still standing stiffly, but now his eyes clouded with mixed
emotions, of which doubt predominated. His mind touched that of his
father, and he seemed to read truth there. But could he beli