facing those applicants tomorrow makes me tired."

Astro turned out the light and hopped into bed. Tom lay in his bunk,
hands under his head, wondering about Vidac, and then he began to think
about the colony of Roald. He lay a long time, thinking about the fine
people who were giving up comfortable homes, successful businesses. He
thought of Hyram Logan and family; the shopkeeper from Titan with three
sets of twin boys; the Martian miner who had spent twenty-five futile
years searching for uranium in the asteroid belt. They were all ready to
go over fifty billion miles into deep space and begin their lives again.
Tom shook his head. He wondered if he had a choice whether he would
chance the mystery and danger of deep space.

With the steady hum of the electronic generator on the power deck
droning in his ears the curly-haired cadet soon fell asleep.

* * * * *

"What did you say your name was?" asked Roger of the applicant standing
before him. He was a man badly in need of a shave and his clothes looked
as if he had slept in them. He was the sixty-sixth applicant Roger had
seen that morning.

"Tad Winters," replied the man in a surly tone, "and hurry up with this
business. I haven't got all day!"

Roger looked up sharply. "You'll wait until I've had time to check your
application, sir. Or you can leave right now!"

"Listen, punk," snarled Winters, "I just saw your boss--"