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Updated: June 15, 2025
The acts of Him Whom God shall make manifest are like unto the sun, while the works of men, provided they conform to the good-pleasure of God, resemble the stars or the moon... Thus, should the followers of the Bayán observe the precepts of Him Whom God shall make manifest at the time of His appearance, and regard themselves and their own works as stars exposed to the light of the sun, then they will have gathered the fruits of their existence; otherwise the title of ‘starship’ will not apply to them.
His family position demanded obedience from the starship officers and crew. He stopped for a moment and gave a swift command into the lapel pickup, then went on to his motel room. The next morning, full of confidence after a good breakfast, he headed for the intersection of Laurel Canyon and Ventura Boulevards. There he would make his stand. The boulevard swarmed with women shoppers.
The cloud-seeders provided a cooling rain-shower at about 0100 every night to wash away the day's grime. Alan was usually coming home at that time, and he would stand in the empty streets letting the rain pelt down on him, and enjoying it. Rain was a novelty for him; he had spent so much of his life aboard the starship that he had had little experience with it.
He was going to have to do some explaining to Steve later, but by that time it would be too late; the starship would be well on its way to Procyon. It was a dirty trick to play, he thought, but it was justifiable. In Hawkes' words, it was in a good cause.
Most of them were small two-man cargo vessels, used in travel between Earth and the colonies on the Moon, Mars, and Pluto, but here and there a giant starship loomed high above the others. Alan stood on tiptoes to search for the golden hull of the Valhalla, but he was unable to see it.
And it wasn't because he'd been away from women too long. A week was hardly that. He grinned as he recalled the blonde from Thule aboard the starship. Now there was a woman, even though her ears were pointed and her arms were too long. She didn't pressure a man. She let him make the advances. He grinned. That was it. He was on the defensive.
His eyes were blue and intense, and they gave Kieran the feeling that this man was a wound-up spring. He looked down and said, "How do you feel, Kieran?" Kieran looked up at him. He asked, "Am I in a starship?" "Yes." "But there aren't any starships." "There are. You're in one." The sandy-haired man added, "My name is Vaillant." It's true, what he says, murmured the something in Kieran's mind.
You know yourself you don't want to spend the next seven decades of your life shuttling around in your old man's starship. You'll check out and stay here. I know you will." "I'll bet you I don't!" "That bet is herewith covered," Hawkes drawled. "I never pass up a sure thing. Is ten to one okay your hundred against my thousand that you'll stay?" Alan scowled angrily.
Since the starship would be blasting off at the end of the week, he knew the crew was probably already at work on it, shaping it up for the trip. He belonged on it too. He saw a dark green starship standing nearby; the Encounter, Kevin Quantrell's ship.
"I'd like to know some things." "Later," said Vaillant. "We've got troubles. Stay where you are." He went rapidly out of the room. Kieran looked after him, wondering. Troubles troubles in a starship? And a century had passed He suddenly felt an emotion that shook his nerves and tightened his guts. It was beginning to hit him now.
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