Dedication: For Admiral Lord Hornblower, R. N.
Lieutenant John Grimes of the Federation Survey Service: fresh out of the Academy—and as green as they come!
"What do you think you're playing at?"
"Captain," said Wolverton, "I can no more than guess at what you intend to do—but I have decided not to help you do it."
"Give me the initiator, Wolverton. That's an order!
"A lawful command, Captain? As lawful as those that armed this ship?"
"Hold him, Grimes!"
. . . They hung there, clinging to each other, but more in hate than in love. Wolverton's back was to the machine; he could not see, as could Grimes, that there was an indraught of air into the shimmering, spinning complexity. Grimes felt the beginnings of panic . . . all that mattered was that there was nothing to prevent him and Wolverton from being drawn into the machine . . . .Violently Grimes shoved away. To the action, there was a reaction . . .
When he had finished retching, Grimes forced himself to look again at the slimy, bloody obscenity that was a man turned inside out—heart still beating, intestines still writhing . . .
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