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{\noindent}
{\centering
{\LARGE\strut{THE HERO}}
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\noindent
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the \hyperlink{project-gutenberg-license}{Project Gutenberg License}
included with this eBook or online at
{https://www.gutenberg.org/license}.
\par

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\noindent
Title: The Hero
\par

\noindent
Author: Elaine Wilber
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\noindent
Release Date: April 04, 2011 {[}EBook \#35770{]}
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Language: English
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Character set encoding: UTF-8
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*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HERO ***
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Produced by Frank van Drogen, Greg Weeks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at {http://www.pgdp.net}.
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{\LARGE\strut{THE HERO}}\par}
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{\vl BY ELAINE WILBER\par}
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{\vl {\itshape{Willy was undoubtedly a hero. The difficulty lies in deciding which side he was on....}}\par}
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{\noindent}
Two months after the
landing, Ship UXB-69311 was
rigged out with most things needed
to make life bearable, if not interesting,
for the crew. Perched on the
manicured, blue-green sod of the
planet Engraham, its inner parts
were transformed and refitted for
the many months of the Exploration.
No effort and no flight of
imagination had been spared to
make the ship resemble more a
country club than a barracks. With
the permission of Colonel Mondrain,
the crew's bunkroom had
been completely rearranged, and a
segment thereof made into a quietly
elegant bar. Plans for this eventual
rejuvenation had been fomenting
throughout the very tiresome
and very monotonous journey.\par

When they first landed, the natives
fled, and thus it was easy to
liberate furnishings from the adjacent village.
When the inhabitants
returned, after the purposes of the
visiting Earthman were acknowledged
to be harmless, they proved
to be too courteous to carp about a
few missing articles.\par

The chairs, of a very advanced
design and most comfortable, were
made of a light and durable metal
alloy thus far unknown to Earth.
The bar (which was probably not
its purpose on Engraham, no one
knew or cared what its function had
been) was of a design so futuristic
that it would have turned a modern
artist mad. The utensils, also
liberated, were unbelievably delicate,
yet strong and easy to wash.
At first, since the Earth had not
intended the Exploration to resemble
the type that Texas-stationed
servicemen like to run in Matamoros,
there was nothing to drink
in the utensils. But hardly six weeks
had passed before the first hero of
the Exploration, a man named
O'Connors, discovered a palatable
fruit growing on nearby bushes. By
means of a system of improvised
pipes (also liberated) it was no
time at all before tasty beverages,
somewhat strident but quite effective,
were being run off and consumed
in quantities. The machine
known as O'Connors Joy-Juicer was
concealed behind the bar, and all
that was ever seen on the bar when
Colonel Mondrain or the Doctors
were around was an innocuous fruit
juice.\par

The Earth Command had
stocked the ship with reading material,
most of it of a disgustingly educational
nature, in photostatic
cards: and the second hero of the
Exploration was a man named
Kosalowsky, who discovered in the
psychology sections the works of
Freud and Krafft-Ebing. After this
discovery, a few interesting discussions
arose.\par

After these changes had been
made, there was very little to do.\par

The Earth Command had assumed
that the natives of Engraham
would resent the Explorations
(most planets did), and so had sent
along the crew of thirty men for
protection. All had labored mightily
to become part of this special
crew, chosen for endurance and
known war-like qualities. For once
they got back to Earth, all were
slated to be mustered out of service
immediately, decorated to the ears,
and awarded full, life-time pensions.
Many already had contracts
to appear on television and one
man, Blunt, hinted at a long term
Hollywood contract.\par

But once they got there, there
was little to do after all. A guard
was posted; instruments were
checked; and, although the necessity
seemed slight, the ship was kept
primed for instantaneous emergency
take-off. On the day corresponding
to Earth's Saturday, the
ship was G. I.'d from stem to stern.
The maintenance crew made sure
that no parts deteriorated or got
liberated by enterprising natives.
But the natives were not an inventive
race. It was discovered by the
Doctors (Anker, Frank, Pelham
and Flandeau) that the natives
literally did not know how to steal.
They were backward. Dr. Flandeau,
who was making great strides
with the language, reported that
there was some evidence that the
Engrahamites had once possessed
this skill, along with murder, mayhem,
bad faith, and politics, but
had lost it, through a deterioration
of the species.\par

Thus, once the ship had been
transformed into a place worthy of
human dwelling, and the beverage
question had been solved, and utter,
imbecilic boredom circumvented by
the timely discoveries of Freud and
Krafft-Ebing, the men found time
hanging heavily on their hands;
and the more the doctors discovered
about the Engrahamites, the
more dismal the situation became.
The doctors, growing more and
more fascinated by their tasks, left
the ship bright and early each day,
returning around nightfall to reduce
their growing stacks of data
to points of Earthly relevance. The
Colonel was also out most of the
time. He paid many social calls on
the natives, who, being courteous,
received him, and was often returned
at night in a chauffeured
native Hop-Hop. Life in the bunkroom
became a sullen round of
poker, reading of Krafft-Ebing, and
gab: and Earth currency changed
hands daily in the never-ending
crap game.\par

For there was one great lack in
their lives. This lack, and the inability
to do anything about it, absorbed
many hours of conversation.
At first, complaints only occurred at
intervals; but as weeks passed, the
lamentations became so fervent, so
constant, and so heart-rending, that
Dr. Flandeau observed to Dr. Frank
that more stirring passages had not
been made since the Jeremiad. For
Dr. Flandeau, although aging, was
in his off hours a poet, and a
Frenchman always.\par

Dr. Frank said, "Yes, well, poor
bastards."\par

At first, nostalgically, the crew
harked back to happier times on
Earth. Soon not one young lady of
their collective acquaintance had
escaped the most minute analysis.
They were young men—the oldest,
Blunt, was only twenty-six—and
several of them had married young,
greatly limiting their activities so
that even their cumulative memories
could not last forever. After
several weeks, repetition began to
set in. Once all successes had been
lovingly remembered, down to the
last, exquisite detail, they began recalling
their failures. The master
strategist, the unofficial referee of
these seminars, was Dick Blunt.\par

"Now where you went wrong
there," he would tell a fledgling
reporting complete zero with a
YWCA resident, "was in making
her feel that you were interested.
Your line with a girl like that
should be one of charity. Pure
charity. You impress on her that
you're doing her a terrific favor.
You offer to bring to her dull life
romance, adventure, tenderness."\par

"I couldn't even get my hands
on her," complained the reproved
failure, Herbert Banks.\par

"I've always found that type the
easiest ones of all," Blunt said indifferently.
"Dull, of course."\par

The testiness, the self-pity, the
shortness of temper and the near-riots
over stolen packages of cigarettes,
were not improved after the
Doctors, having surveyed the situation
thoroughly, decided that it
would do no harm to let the men of
the crew go out on Liberty.\par

Fraternizing with natives was, of
course, strictly forbidden. They
were not to drink off premises.
(Nor on, for that matter.) They
were exhorted not to steal, not to
engage in fights.\par

Still, they could walk around,
take pictures of the strange pink
houses and the dazzling cities. They
could watch a covey of children
swim in the municipal pools. They
could look at the fountains, the so-called
"miraculous fountains of
Engraham", or climb the strange,
glassy mountains. The natives, although
shy of them, were most polite,
and some smiled enchantingly—especially
the women.\par

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This was the worst rub of
all: there were women, and
they were gorgeous. A little smaller
than most Earth women, with
bright eyes, and high, arched eyebrows,
looking forever as if they
had heard the most priceless joke.
Their faces conformed to the most
rigid standards of Caucasian
beauty. Their legs, so delicate, so
tapering, so fantastically small of
ankle, were breath-taking. Their
clothes, which would have driven a
Parisian designer to suicide, were
draped carelessly over the most exquisite
figures. True, they were a
little deficient in one department,
and this was explained, before they
were granted liberty, by Dr. Flandeau.
The women of Engraham, he
said, did not bear children.\par

This announcement was not received
with special gloom, for until
then, none of the crew had seen an
Engrahamite woman. But Willy
Lanham, a dark-haired, skinny boy
from Tennessee, asked, unhappily,
"Don't they even go in for games
or nothin'?"\par

Flandeau understood instantly.
He shook his head sadly. "I should
think not. It has been a long time
since they have observed the normal
functions. The women are
mainly for decoration, although it
is said that some are also created
for brains. They are a most strange
people."\par

After this—granted these agonizing
liberties, and able to see that
which was biologically unattainable—the
crew became so demoralized
that not even Kosalowsky's discovery
of the works of Wilhelm
Reik relieved the deep gloom.\par

However, they had reckoned
without the superior genius of Dick
Blunt. Blunt received Flandeau's
news as unhappily as the others,
and, like the rest, was made miserable
by the sight of the glorious
damozels. But he was a reasonable
man and he put his reasoning powers
to work. Soon he alone was
cheerful. He went around with the
absorbed, other-world look of a
physicist grappling with a problem
in ionospheric mathematics without
the use of an IBM calculator.
One day he went on Liberty alone.
He did not return until the fall of
night, and when he came in his
elation was so immoderate that the
others thought there must be bars
on Engraham after all.\par

"I have found the answer to our
question," he said.\par

No one needed to ask what question.
O'Connors hurried to pour
Blunt a drink.\par

"I have spent the day pursuing
this answer logically," said Blunt.
"I have done what any thoughtful
man would do. I have read up on
it."\par

"How?" cried Henderson.\par

"At the library."\par

Blunt then described his day:
finding his way to the library by
means of pantomime; and finding
at last, that file of photographs—photographs
of an utterly self-explanatory
nature. And these he
pulled from his pocket, for ignoring
all discipline, he had stolen
them.\par

The pictures passed from hand
to hand. O'Connors passed them
on to Pane, and suddenly felt the
need to open the window behind
him. It was Willy Lanham, the
boy from Tennessee, who voiced
those exultant words that rose to
the throats of all:\par

He said, "Hey! They're made
just like the Earth girls."\par

The conversation, at this intensely
interesting point, was cut short
by the arrival of the Colonel. He
alighted from the native Hop-Hop—waved
cheerily to its driver, and
began coming up. The bottle and
glasses vanished, and Kosalowsky
began to read aloud from a book
especially reserved for these occasions.
The men maintained looks
of studious interest as the officer
went through. He went up the ladder
to his own quarters, there to
write in his growing volume, THE
COMING OCCUPATION AND
GOVERNMENT OF ENGRAHAM.
They listened until his door
clicked.\par

The conversation was resumed
in more subdued tones.\par

"Do you think," said Pane shakily,
"They still {\itshape{could}}?"\par

"Not a question of it," Blunt
said. "These pictures prove it. It's
what you might call a lost art. Once
upon a time, as with all the fortunate
parts of the galaxy, this art
was known to the Engrahamites.
Through some terrific foul-up, they
lost it. Probably a combination of
the science of incubation, and the
reign of some ghastly square, like
Queen Victoria. Thus were the
girls of Engraham deprived of the
pleasures of love."\par

"The men, too," said Willy. All
glared at him reproachfully. To
care about the happiness of the
Engrahamite men was thought not
quite patriotic.\par

"Gradually," Blunt went on,
"they must have begun to lose
interest. Probably there was some
taboo. In the end they probably all
thought, oh, to hell with it, and began
serving on committees."\par

A long sigh went up.\par

"It is for us," Blunt said softly,
treasuring each word, "to restore
these unhappy maidens to their
original human rights.\par

"But it isn't going to be easy,"
Blunt went on. His voice dropped
even lower. "Think what would
happen if it went sour. Those Doctors
would get wind of it. We'd be
stuck in the Ship for the rest of
the Exploration."\par

There was a sober pause. Finally
Banks cleared his throat and said,
"Well, how do you think it should
be handled, Blunt?"\par

"Well, every beachhead needs an
invasion," Blunt said, casually holding
out his glass. O'Connors leapt
to fill it. "One guy has got to lay
the groundwork. Let him enlighten
one quail. Explain things to her."
He took a long, leisurely drink, and
sighed. "This quail will rush
around telling the others. Pretty
soon there'll be so many hanging
around the ship that—"\par

There was a general rush for
cooling beverages.\par

"Right," someone said, when the
faculty of speech was recovered.\par

"And necessarily," said Blunt,
"this has to be the guy with the
most savvy. The one who knows the
score. The one most likely to succeed.
Check?"\par

All knew what this was leading
up to. Martin said unhappily,
"Check, Blunt, You're our boy."\par

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Blunt was scheduled to stand
guard the next day, but Willy Lanham,
eager to assist the cause, volunteered
to take over for him. The
hours seemed to creep by. His air
was swaggering and cool when he
returned, and all gathered round
with eager curiosity—all but Lanham,
who had not recovered from
standing guard.\par

Blunt sauntered to the bar, accepted
a drink, sipped it, lighted a
cigarette, and took a long, pensive
drag. Finally he said reminiscently,
"What a doll!"\par

Pane, never a subtle man, cried
in anguish, "Well, how'd you make
out?"\par

Blunt smiled smugly. He began
his recital. He was walking along
the street and he met this gorgeous
creature. A full description followed
(broken by the arrival of
the Colonel and two paragraphs of
the DECLINE AND FALL) making
it clear that this was the dish
of dishes, the most beautiful of the
beautiful, the most charming, and
the most intelligent. She allowed
herself to be addressed in Blunt's
few words of Engrahamic and,
smiling ever patiently, sat with him
for several hours. Their talk took
place in a secluded bower, in one
of the many parks. She was agreeable
and charmed and promised to
see him again. He even managed,
through terrific feats of pantomime,
to impress on her the need of secrecy
in future meetings.\par

"That was all?" someone said,
when he finished.\par

"For the first meeting, I think I
did wonders," said Blunt. "After
all, sex hasn't been known here
since a time corresponding to our
Stone Age."\par

Later, when the nightly poker
game was beginning, Willy Lanham
said, "Why didn't you just
make a grab for her?"\par

"That's the hill-billy approach,"
Blunt said disdainfully. "These girls
are civilized—very, very civilized.
It's important not to shock them."\par

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Blunt's next gambit was to
set about learning the language.
For this he went not to
Flandeau, who best knew it, but to
Ankers, who was a pure scientist
in every sense of the word, and not
so likely to suspect his motives. The
girl proved very cultured. She took
him to art galleries, to symphonies,
and mountain climbing, for scrambling
up and down the glassy hills
was a favorite Engrahamic sport.
As he advanced in the language,
he learned that her name was Catataphinaria,
which meant "she will
attain relative wisdom". He found
that she worked for the Eleven
who, while not rulers, offered general
suggestions which the populace
more or less followed.\par

Although his slow progress inevitably
bored the crew, still, it offered
that one precious ray of hope,
and they became so tractable that
even the Doctors noticed it. They
laid it to the secret ingredient that
Dr. Frank had introduced into the
drinking water.\par

The summer wore on, becoming
hotter each day. By the end of the
second month of his courtship,
Blunt began to speak to her of love.\par

She laughed. She said that she
had little curiosity on the subject,
although it was now and then
mentioned by the students of antiquity.
Assured that it was pleasurable,
she said that she heard that
barbarians also enjoyed murdering
people and making them butts of
jokes.\par

Willy Lanham said, "Don't listen
to what a girl {\itshape{says}}. Just make a
grab for her."\par

This suggestion was laughed to
scorn.\par

Weeks passed, the summer began
to wane. Tempers again began
to shorten. Flandeau said to Frank,
"The men are worse again."\par

"Yes, perhaps we should increase
the dosage."\par

The fruits for the Joy-Juicer
grew thin on the silvery bushes, and
men ranged far and wide, putting
in supplies for the winter.\par

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One night, when Blunt had won
at poker, all the men lay in their
bunks, too dispirited to drink, to
shoot craps, almost too miserable
even for speech. Blunt again began
talking of Catataphinaria. Drowsily
Lanham said, "I think you're going
at it the wrong way, Dick. Try
some real rough stuff. You know—kiss
her. She might like it."\par

Before Blunt could defend his
strategy, Kosalowsky sat up in his
bunk. "Yes, for cripes sake," he
said, "Move in for the kill. Or shut
up about it. You're driving us all
nuts."\par

"Would you like to try?" Blunt
suggested softly.\par

"Sure I'll try," Kosalowsky said.
He turned on the light over his
bunk. "Give me a crack at her. I
could have managed it weeks ago.
All you've done is talk to the
quail."\par

"Yah, Dick, maybe you're using
the wrong approach on this one,"
O'Connors suggested.\par

"It's the damn places you take
her," Kosalowsky said. "Art galleries.
Anybody ever seduce a girl
in an art gallery? Symphonies.
Popping around in her damn Hop-Hop.
Can't you ever get her
alone?"\par

"She lives with ten other girls,"
Blunt said sulkily. "They're all
home all the time."\par

"Well, bring her here, then,"
Pane suggested. "We'll all take a
powder."\par

"Where?"\par

There was no answer. They
could not all, by day, desert the
ship, and it was getting too chilly
for the crew to hide in adjacent
shrubbery. "We could put up a
wall," Pane said suddenly, "between
the bunks and the bar."\par

"With what?"\par

"I know," Banks said eagerly,
"where there's a whole pile of stuff.
It's nice thin metal, just lying there
getting rusty."\par

"I think you're premature—"\par

"Premature!" Kosalowsky shouted.
"Six months you've been chasing
this tomato. You call that premature?"\par

"Only four by Engrahamic
time," Blunt said, insulted.\par

"Listen," Kosalowsky said, "that
wall goes up tomorrow. And you're
smuggling her in tomorrow night.
Or else," he said, glaring at Blunt,
"after that it's every man for himself.
Check?"\par

Blunt, only slightly seen in the
light from Kosalowsky's bunk, was
white with rage. "All right, guys,"
he said stonily. "I've been trying to
do right by this frail. Nothing
abrupt or hillbilly. Nothing to hurt
her delicate feelings or her fine
mind. But if this is how you want
it—Okay!"\par

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The next day the wall went up.\par

Hardly a word was said as it
was hammered in place. Once up,
the place was G. I.'d thoroughly.
The ash trays were washed, the
floor vacuumed, and the lights adjusted
to achieve the most tellingly
seductive effect. Blunt went out at
two, thin-lipped and silent.\par

"The jerk," Kosalowsky said, "I
think he's a lot of hot air. That's
what {\itshape{I}} think."\par

The Colonel came in at nightfall
and asked about the wall. They
told him that it was to cut off the
recreation section from the sleeping
quarters, for the protection of those
who wanted more sleep to prepare
for the grueling winter watches.\par

"Very good idea men," the
Colonel said, and went upstairs to
write another chapter in his book.\par

At nine the men disappeared into
their bunks. O'Connors won the
responsible job of peering through
the narrow slit in the wall. Behind
him could be heard the labored
breathing of twenty-seven distraught
men. One man snored.
"Wake up, you stupid ass," Pane
told Lanham. "You'll wreck the
show."\par

At last the door opened and
Blunt came in—with the girl.\par

She was breath-taking. She wore,
O'Connors reported, a dress cut to
here—and her hair was piled high
on her patrician head. Blunt had
not lied. She was even prettier than
the usual run of Engraham girls.\par

"He's offering her a drink,"
O'Connors whispered.\par

"She take it?"\par

"No—she's sitting at the bar.
He's having one, though. He's turning
on the hi-fi."\par

He did not have to tell them,
since all could hear the soft music.
They had selected a program of
melodies considered sure-fire.\par

"He's talking to her—putting his
arm around her waist. Oh-oh. She
knocked it off. She's laughing,
though."\par

In the silence they all heard her
laugh. Several men moved uncomfortably.
"He's leading her toward
the couch—oh-oh—she stopped to
look at the radar screen."\par

It was the auxiliary radar, not
the important one in the control
room. "What's he doing?"\par

"Telling her—he's edging her to
the couch again—now she's asking
about the Bassett Blaster. They're
fooling around with the gun. He's
showing her how it works—trying
to put his hands—!"\par

This last was lost, for there was
a sudden, resounding blast. Their
bunks, the entire ship, trembled.\par

The meaning was clear to all.
They flattened to their bunks, and
waited tensely. They heard a sound,
the sound of a foot kicking a body.
A hand scratched tentatively
along the wall.\par

No one moved. "She killed him."
O'Connors voice was no more than
a slight whisper. "Lay low—lay
low."'\par

Then a woman's voice said, in
perfect English, "All right, you
men. Come out of there."\par

The door was found and flung
open. Catataphinaria stood in the
dim light—still holding the Blaster.
She said again, more sharply, "I
said, Come out of there!"\par

Clumsily, they came down from
their bunks.\par

"Now," she said, as she had
them all against the wall, "call
down the others."\par

But this was unnecessary, for the
Doctors and the Colonel were already
descending the ladder. They
turned quite white at the sight of
her. Wordlessly, she indicated that
they were to join the others. The
Doctors found it harder to adjust
to a purely military sort of emergency.
Ankers asked clearly, "What
on earth is this nonsense?"\par

"No nonsense," the girl said.
"Just do as I say. First, surrender
all your papers."\par

"Our papers?"\par

"Your research. Your conclusions.
Everything."\par

Henderson said, "I'll go get it,
Ma'am."\par

"I would also like the Colonel's
amusing work on the coming occupation."\par

"I know where it is, sir," Martin
said swiftly. "I'll get it."\par

The Colonel's expression was
stony. He nodded to Martin to get
it, and it occurred to him that the
girl was one of those whom he had
personally selected as the most
promising for the puppet governments.
But when he asked about her
identity, she cut him off without a
word.\par

"Then, may I ask where you
learned such flawless English?"\par

"All of us know English," she
said. "It is a very stupid language."\par

Martin and Henderson returned
with the papers. Gingerly they approached
her, handed the papers to
her, and darted back to their places
in the line. She placed the stack on
the bar, leafed through it, all the
while keeping them covered with
the Blaster, and remarked on finishing,
"It is exactly what one
would expect barbarians to find
interesting."\par

Flandeau, however, remained a
scientist to the last.\par

"We find ourselves unhappily deceived,"
he said. "We were certain—that
you were utterly without defenses.
We were told that you did
not know {\itshape{how}} to lie, cheat, dissemble,
or fight."\par

"Only not with each other." she
said. "It was, so to speak, a lost
art." She glanced at Blunt. Several
men squirmed. "But it is one that
we have regained," she said.\par

"And what will you do with us?"
Flandeau asked.\par

"We have decided to let you go,"
she said. "Now that we possess this
weapon,"—she brandished the
Blaster—"which we can copy, we
think we can prevent more Explorations.
At least this is the opinion
of the Eleven. So I am instructed
to let you leave—at once,
of course."\par

"You are most charming," said
Flandeau.\par

"At once," she repeated.\par

"Yes, of course. Men! Prepare
for blastoff!"\par

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{\noindent}
The way back was tedious—the
floating around, the
boredom, the unending blackness
of space—but at least it was going
home. After the first weeks of
space-sickness, things returned to
near normal, and the Doctors conferred
with the Colonel. It was decided
that the best report should
be that Engraham was uninviting,
bleak, and of no interest to Earthmen.
The reputations of all were
at stake (the doctors found themselves,
stripped of their papers,
unable to recollect enough, and the
Colonel desperately feared a court-martial)
and the crew was thus
advised. All agreed to keep their
mouths shut. Thus their honorable
discharges, medals, and life-time
pensions would be safe.\par

So, with all this decided, and
Earth only a few months away,
relative cheerfulness reigned. Only
Willy Lanham continued to mope.\par

"What's biting you?" Kosalowsky
asked, one day as they lay strapped
in adjacent bunks. "Your face is
as long as this ship."\par

"I just feel bad," Willy said. "I
can feel bad if I want to, can't I?"\par

"What the hell, we'll soon be
home. We can really raise some
hell, then."\par

"I miss my girl," Willy blurted
out.\par

"You'll see her pretty soon."\par

"I mean my girl on Engraham."\par

It happened that just then several
other men, bored with lying
still, were floating past. They
gripped the edges of Willy's bunk.\par

"You mean you had," Kosalowsky
said cunningly, "a girl on Engraham?"\par

"Sure I did," said Willy defensively.
"Didn't all you guys?"\par

More and more men joined the
knot of bodies around Willy's bunk.
The atmosphere became distinctly
menacing.\par

"You mean you didn't?" Willy
said. "You mean it wasn't a gag we
were pulling on Blunt?"\par

They were silent. One pair of
floating hands neared Willy's
throat.\par

"Honest," he said. "I didn't
think you were that dumb. I
thought you were just letting Blunt
make an ass of himself. I thought
that—well, it was so easy. I even
told Dick a couple of times. You
just had to make a grab for 'em."\par

Pane suddenly let out a harsh
sound, like the cry of a wounded
bull.\par

"So who was this frail?" Kosalowsky
asked heavily.\par

"Yeah!" echoed the others.\par

"Well, she was just a frail, I
guess," Willy said. "I used to see
her around the ship. On guard
duty. I used to see her all the time.
What the hell," he said, "You think
I'm dumb or something? Why'd
you think I was willing to stand
guard all the time?"\par

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{\centering
{\scshape{Transcribers note}}: This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction February 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
\endgraf}
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