'Atkins,' said Lesbee with a weary wave of one hand, 'I have some names here for you. Be careful. The deaths must appear natural, or I shall disown you as an inefficient fool.'

The big man grunted. He was a grandson of one of the original workers in the gardens, and it had caused quite a stir when he had been relieved of his duties as a gardener some years before.

The resentment died quickly when the officer's son who protested the loudest was put to work in Atkins' place. Lesbee III had thought out things like that long before he acted against his father. His plan was to kill Atkins as soon as the man had served his purpose.

With an aloof air, he gave the first five names, gave them verbally; then, as Atkins withdrew down the steps, he turned his attention to the screen. He pressed another button, and presently the graying son of the old first officer climbed up to the bridge and came over to him, slowly.

'What is it – Captain?'

Lesbee hesitated. He was not sure he liked the slight pause before the use of his title. He was not sure he liked Carson. He sighed. Life was a problem of so many adjustments, with everybody making a fetish of hoarding what knowledge they had. One had to put up with so much, and that was strange because he could remember in his own youth that people then had been much more open-handed and open-hearted.

Why, the first generation had taught their children everything they knew – so it was said.

'Uh, Mr. Carson, what are the latest reports on Sirius?'

Carson brightened. 'We are now within ten thousand million miles. The ship has been swung around for deceleration purposes, but it will be a week yet before the telescopes will be able to determine definitely the size of the planets or whether they have atmospheres.'

'Any, uh, radiation activity?'

Mr. Carson started to shake his head. He stopped. A curious expression came into his eyes. Lesbee twisted to follow his gaze.

Slowly, he stiffened.

The forward half of the plastiglass bridge was twinkling with a scattering of sparks. Even as Lesbee stared, they grew more numerous.

In an hour the gas storm had closed in around them.

Sirius A at five hundred million miles looked about the size of the sun as seen from Earth. Lesbee III did not make the comparison from his own experience. There were motion-picture views that provided a fairly exact standard for judgment. What was radically different was the planetary arrangement.

There were two planets between Sirius A and its companion sun. The one nearest B was very close to its star and had a correspondingly high speed. The other one, which was four hundred and seventy million miles from A, moved more sedately around its large, brilliant sun.

It was this nearest planet that offered their only hope. With a diameter of seventeen thousand miles, it was less than half the size of the second planet, and about one hundredth the size of the planets that swung weightily beyond the erratic orbit of Sirius B. Through the clouds of Sirius A-1, cities were visible.

Lesbee III studied the reports, and looked at the scene below, depressed but determined. It was clear that the universe had not been designed for the comfort and convenience of man. But he must be careful not to accept the implied defeat. Reluctantly, he made his way to the cabin where, for long now, he had isolated his aged grandfather.

He found his grandfather sitting in a chair, watching a small screen view of the planet that swung nearer and nearer. Possession of the screen was one of the many small courtesies which the younger man extended to the other, but so far it had produced no friendliness. His grandfather did not look up as he entered. Lesbee hesitated, then walked over and settled himself in a chair facing the old man.

He waited. It was hard when people misunderstood one's purposes. He had once thought his grandfather would understand even if no one else did, that John Lesbee III had the interests of the trip at heart.

Perhaps it was too much to expect, though. Human beings were always willing to be objective – about other human beings; and so an old man resented the method by which he had been retired. Some day, no doubt, he, Lesbee III, would be retired by Lesbee IV, now ten years old. It seemed to the young man, in a sudden burst of self-pity, that when the time came, he would accept the situation gracefully – provided it didn't happen too soon.

His annoyance passed. He launched his bombshell. 'Grandfather, I have come to ask your permission to announce that you will come out of retirement during the whole period in which we are in the vicinity of Sirius, and that during that period you will direct the activities of the ship.'

The long, thin body moved, but that was all. Lesbee suppressed a smile. It seemed to him that his grandfather's mind must be working furiously. He pressed his purpose, as persuasively as possible: 'Throughout your life, sir, you have had but one purpose: To ensure that the voyage of the Hope of Man is completed. I know what your feeling is. After all, I'm the person who actually decided to accept the ship as a permanent home.' He shrugged. 'Before this, people kept wanting to go home. I've stopped all that and I've urged everyone to accept life here and now. People used to be worried about the fact that there was one more girl in the third generation than there were men. I solved that problem very simply. I took a second wife. It was shocking for a while, but now no" one gives it a thought.' He leaned back easily. 'A voyage like this is something special. We're a little, private world, and we have to make private adjustments to changing conditions. I was hoping to have your approval of all this.'

He paused, and waited. Still the old man said nothing. Lesbee smothered his irritation with an affable smile. 'You might be interested, sir, in the suggestion I have to make for our stay in the Sirius system. Naturally, it is already pretty certain that we cannot land here. The atmosphere below is saturated with sulfur. Just what that would do to our ship, I don't know. But one thing is certain. We've got to find out right here where we go next.'

It seemed to Lesbee that he had his audience interested now. The old man was stroking his scraggly white beard, his lips were pursed.

But again it was Lesbee who had to break the silence: 'I have studied the reports of the methods used in trying to establish communication with the Centaurians. The methods all seem too timid, considered in retrospect. There was no bold determination on your part to force attention from them, and although you spent months longer than your original intention, cruising around, your lack of initiative made that merely a waste of time. Certainly the nature of the atmosphere, which you discovered there, entitled you to believe that it was a chlorine-breathing, interstellar civilization somewhat superior to that of Earth. Now, here seems to be a sulfur-breathing world.'

He leaned forward with a sudden intensity. 'We must make ourselves so obnoxious to the inhabitants of this planet of Sirius A that they will give us all the information we want. Are you interested?'

The old man stirred. Slowly he straightened his long body. His eyes narrowed to slits of blue. 'Just what have you got in mind,' he asked, 'besides murder?'