It was Lesbee's seeking gaze that found First Officer Carson sitting near the back of the theater, and it was he who located the second officer slumped down in one of the seats near the front. Of the senior officers of the ship only Captain Lesbee himself had not yet arrived. That was a little disquieting but Lesbee took assurance from the fact that the theater had its normal packed appearance.

Three times a 'week' there was a show. Three times a week the eight hundred people on the ship gathered in this room and gazed silently at the scenes of far-off Earth that glided over the screen. Seldom did anyone miss the show. His father would be along any minute.

Lesbee settled himself to the inevitability of what was about to happen. On the screen a light flickered, and then there was a burble of music. A voice said something about an 'important trial,' and then there were several panels of printed words and a list of technical experts. At that point Lesbee's mind and gaze wandered back to his father's reserved seat.

It was still empty.

The shock of that was not an ordinary sensation. It was an impact, astonishment mingled with a sense of imminent disaster, the sudden tremendous conviction that his father knew of the plot.

He felt his first disappointment. It was an anguish of bitter emotion, the realization that the trip would go on. His feelings caught him by surprise. He still hadn't realized the depth and intensity of his own frustration aboard this ship, seven thousand and eight hundred days out from Earth. He whirled to word-lash Ganarette for having made such a mess of the plot.

Lips parted, he hesitated. If the rebellion were destined to fail, it wouldn't do to have made a single favorable remark about it. With a sigh he settled back in his seat. The anger passed and he could feel the disappointment fading. Rising in its place was acceptance of the inevitability of the future.