The Captain rested her snout on one hand.'He doesn't,' she said. 'He listened. He talked. Noneof the others did. He may be the One.'

The Gunnery Officer placed his upper two fronthands on the desk and glared at her.

'Well,' he said, 'I've talked to the other officers. Idon't believe in legends. When the full enormity ofwhat you have done is understood, you will be relievedof your command!'

She turned tired eyes towards him.

'Good,' she said. 'But right now, I am Captain. I amresponsible. Do you understand? Have you got thefaintest idea of what that means? Now - . . go!'

He didn't like it, but he couldn't disobey. I can havehim shot, she thought. It'd be a good idea. Bound tosave trouble later on. It'll be No. 235 on the list ofThings to Do .

She turned back to continue staring at the stars out-side, on the huge screen that filled one wall.

The enemy ship still hung there.

What kind of person is it? she thought. Despicablethough they are, there's so few of them. But they keepcoming back! What's their secret?

But you can be sure of one thing. They surely onlysend their bravest and their best.

The advantage of the Trying Times was that helpingyourself from the fridge was OK. There didn't seem tobe any proper mealtimes any more in any case. Or anyreal cooking.

Johnny made himself spaghetti and baked beans.

There was no sound from the living-room, althoughthe TV was on.

Then he watched a bit of television in his room. He'dbeen given the old one when they got the new one. Itwasn't very big and you had to get up and walk overto it every time you wanted to change channels or thevolume or whatever, but these were Trying Times.

There was a film on the News showing some missilesstreaking over some city. It was quite good.

Then he went to bed.

He was not entirely surprised to wake up at the controls