“Low g can be stimulating, can’t it?” the captain said. “But we make better time under a full gravity. Once I had to make an emergency high-thrust run to the research station in Venus orbit: two g.” He shook his head. “Not comfortable at all. Good thing it was only for a few days.”

Captain Guerra had lived on his ship since receiving his commission from the IAA many years earlier. The ship was home, his life, his reason for existence. Rarely did he go down dirtside at the Moon or Earth. He had never deigned to set foot on the Chrysalis II habitat orbiting Ceres in the Asteroid Belt or the Thomas Gold research station at Jupiter. Nor the scientific bases on Mars, or orbiting Venus. To say nothing of the massive habitat in orbit around Saturn, which he regarded as little more than a penal colony. Mercury he had visited once, briefly, because he had to oversee the unloading of a cargo of construction materials there. But most of his time he spent aboard his ship, his mistress, the love of his life.

Of course, he did not lead a completely celibate life. Sometimes very attractive women booked passage on Australia, and rank has its privileges. He wondered if Katherine Westfall would succumb to the romance of interplanetary flight. She hadn’t given a hint of such interest over the weeks since they’d left the Earth/Moon system, but still it was a pleasant possibility.

He had once been lean and sinewy, but the years of easy living as he ran Australia across the solar system had plumped his wiry frame. Now, as he sat facing the IAA councilwoman, he looked as well padded as the seat he reclined in.

Guerra poured two heavy gold cups of sherry, handed one to Mrs. Westfall, then touched the rim of his cup to hers.

“To a pleasant journey,” he said.

“It’s been quite pleasant so far,” Katherine Westfall said, with a smile. She sipped delicately.