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his room. It was a simple introduction with minimum wordage.
Biron s thoughts rested for a while upon Sander Jonti, as he watched Earth shrivel with time there
in the view-room. He had known the man very superficially until Jonti had whirled so devastatingly into
his life, first to save it and then to set it upon a new and untried course. Biron had known his name; he
had nodded when they passed; had exchanged polite formalities occasionally, but that was all. He had
not liked the man, had not liked his coldness, his overdressed, overmannered personality. But all that had
nothing to do with affairs now.
Biron rubbed his crew cut with a restless hand and sighed. He actually found himself hungering
for Jonti s presence. The man was at least master of events. He had known what to do; he had known
what Biron was to do; he had made Biron do it. And now Biron was alone and feeling very young, very
helpless, very friendless, and almost frightened.
Through it all, he studiously avoided thinking of his father. It would not help.
Mr. Malaine.
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The name was repeated two or three times before Biron started at the respectful touch upon his
shoulder and looked up.
The robot messenger said again, Mr. Malaine, and for five seconds Biron stared blankly, until
he remembered that that was his temporary name. It had been penciled lightly upon the ticket which Jonti
had given him. A stateroom had been reserved in that name.
Yes, what is it? I am Malaine. The messenger s voice hissed very faintly as the spool within
whirled off its message. I have been asked to inform you that your stateroom has been changed, and
that your baggage has already been shifted. If you will see the purser, you will be given your new key.
We trust that this will cause no inconvenience for you.
What s all this? Biron whirled in his seat, and several of the thinning group of passengers, still
watching, looked up at the explosive sound. What s the idea?
Of course, it was no use arguing with a machine that had merely fulfilled its function. The
messenger had bowed its metal head respectfully, its gently fixed imitation of a human smile of ingratiation
unchanging, and had left.
Biron strode out of the view-room and accosted the ship s officer at the door with somewhat
more energy than he had planned.
Look here. I want to see the captain.
The officer showed no surprise. Is it important, sir?
It sure as Space is. I ve just had my stateroom shifted without my permission and I d like to
know the meaning of it.
Even at the time, Biron felt his anger to be out of proportion to the cause, but it represented an
accumulation of resentment. He had nearly been killed; he had been forced to leave Earth like a skulking
criminal; he was going he knew not where to do he knew not what; and now they were pushing him
around aboard ship. It was the end.
Yet, through it all, he had the uncomfortable feeling that Jonti, in his shoes, would have acted
differently, perhaps more wisely. Well, he wasn t Jonti.
The officer said, I will call the purser.
I want the captain, insisted Biron.
If you wish, then. And after a short conversation through the small ship s communicator
suspended from his lapel, he said urbanely, You will be called for. Please Walt.
Captain Hirm Gordell was a rather short and thickset man, who rose politely and leaned over his
desk to shake hands with Biron when the latter entered.
Mr. Malaine, he said, I am sorry we had to trouble you.
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He had a rectangular face, iron-gray hair, a short, well-kept mustache of slightly darker hue, and
a clipped smile.
So am I, said Biron. I had a stateroom reservation to which I was entitled and I feel that not
even you, sir, had the right to change it without my permission.
Granted, Mr. Malaine. But, you understand, it was rather an emergency. A last-minute arrival,
an important man, insisted on being moved to a stateroom closer the gravitational center of the ship. He
had a heart condition and it was important to keep ship s gravity as low as possible for him. We had no
choice.
All right, but why pick on me as the one to be shifted.
It had to be someone. You were traveling alone; you are a young man who we felt would have
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