e unconquerable will that drove you and the
inventive genius that made it possible--because all these have set you
above us more ordinary men, since they have made you the first men to
fly through space--it is my privilege now to show you the honor in which
you are held by the whole world."

The firm voice quavered; for a moment the old hands trembled as they
lifted a blazing gem from its velvet case.

"Chester Bullard, Master Pilot, on behalf of the Stratosphere Control
Board I bestow upon you--"

"Stop!"

* * * * *

Every radiophone in the world must have echoed that sharp command; every
television screen must have shown to a breathless audience the figure
whose blond hair was awry, whose lean face was afire with protest, as
Chet Bullard sprang forward with upraised hand.

"You're wrong--dead wrong! You're making a mistake. I can't accept
that!"

The master pilot's voice was raised in earnest protest. He seemed, for
the moment, unaware of the thousands of eyes that were upon him;
heedless of the gasp of amazement that swept sibilantly over the vast
audience like a hissing wave breaking upon the beach. And then his face
flushed scarlet, though his eyes still held steadily upon the startled
countenance of the man who stood transfixed, while the jewel in his hand
took the light of the nitron illuminators above and shot it back in a
glory of rainbow hues.

From the seated group on the platform a man came forward. Commander of
the Air, this iron-gray man; he was head of the Stratosphere Control
Board, supreme authority on all matters that concerned the air levels of
the whole world; Commander-in-Chief of all men who laid hands on the
controls of a ship. He spoke quietly now, and Chet Bullard, at his first
word, snapped instantly to salute, then stood silently waiting.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the voice of authority. The
voice seemed soft, almost gentle, yet each syllable carried throughout
the hall with an unmistakable hint of the hardness of a steelite shell
beneath the words.

"The eyes of the world are upon us here; the whole world is gathered to
do you honor. Is it possible that you are refusing that which we offer?
Why? You will speak, please!"

And Chet Bullard, standing stiffly at attention before his commander,
spoke in a tone rendered almost boyish by embarrassment.

* * * * *

"I can't accept, sir. Pilot Harkness will b