dal of Honor, but ...
well, nobody ever expects to get it." He added wryly, "Certainly not
while he's still alive and in health. Why, sir, do you realize that I
haven't been able to spend one unit of money since?" There was an
element of awe in his voice. "Sir, do you realize that not even a beggar
will take currency from me?"

The Commodore nodded in appreciation. "You must understand the position
you occupy, Captain. Your feat was inspiring enough, but that's not all
of it. In a way you combine a popular hero with an _Unknown Soldier_
element. Awarding you the Galactic Medal of Honor makes a symbol of you.
A symbol representing all the millions of unsung heroes and heroines who
have died fighting for the human species. It's not a light burden to
carry on your shoulders, Captain Mathers. I would imagine it a very
humbling honor."

"Well, yes, sir," Don said.

The Commodore switched his tone of voice. "That brings us to the
present, and what your next assignment is to be. Obviously, it wouldn't
do for you to continue in a Scout. Big brass seems to be in favor of
using you for morale and ..."

Don Mathers cleared his throat and interrupted. "Sir, I've decided to
drop out of the Space Service."

"Drop out!" The other stared at Mathers, uncomprehending. "We're at war,
Captain!"

Don nodded seriously. "Yes, sir. And what you just said is true. I
couldn't be used any longer in a Scout. I'd wind up selling bonds and
giving talks to old ladies' clubs."

"Well, hardly that, Captain."

"No, sir, I think I'd really be of more use out of the services. I'm
tendering my resignation and making arrangements to help in the
developing of Callisto and the other Jupiter satellites."

The Commodore said nothing. His lips seemed whiter than before.

Don Mathers said doggedly, "Perhaps my prestige will help bring
volunteers to work the new mines out there. If they see me, well,
sacrificing, putting up with the hardships ..."

The Commodore said evenly, "Mr. Mathers, I doubt if you will ever have
to put up with hardships again, no matter where you make your abode.
However, good luck. You deserve it."

* * * * *

Outside headquarters, Don Mathers summoned a cab and dialed his hotel.
On the way over, he congratulated himself. It had gone easier than he
had expected, really. Although, come to think of it, there wasn't a damn
thing that the brass could do.

He had to laugh to himself.

Imagine i