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.They ran this station and kept control of the satellites.”“The stuff legends are made of, my man,” said the new commander.Hazard and his crew filed tiredly into the waiting shuttle, thirteen grimy, exhausted men and women in the pale-blue fatigues of the IPF.Three of them were wrapped in mesh cocoons and attended by medical personnel.Two others were bandaged but ambulatory.He shook hands with each and every one of them as they stepped from the station’s only functional air lock into the shuttle’s passenger compartment.Hovering there weightlessly, his creased, craggy face unsmiling, to each of his crew members he said, “Thank you.We couldn’t have succeeded without your effort.”The last three through the hatch were Feeney, Stromsen, and Yang.The Irishman looked embarrassed as Hazard shook his hand.“I’m recommending you for promotion.You were damned cool under fire.”“Frozen stiff with fear, you mean.”To Stromsen, “You, too, Miss Stromsen.You’ve earned a promotion.”“Thank you, sir,” was all she could say.“And you, little lady,” he said to Yang.“You were outstanding.”She started to say something, then flung her arms around Hazard’s neck and squeezed tight.“I was so frightened!” she whispered in his ear.“You kept me from cracking up.”Hazard held her around the waist for a moment.As they disengaged he felt his face turning flame red.He turned away from the hatch, not wanting to see the expressions on the rest of his crew members.Buckbee was coming through the air lock.Behind him were his five men.Including Jon Jr.They passed Hazard in absolute silence, Buckbee’s face as cold and angry as an antarctic storm.Jon Jr.was the last in line.None of the would-be boarders was in handcuffs, but they all had the hangdog look of prisoners.All except Hazard’s son.He stopped before his father and met the older man’s gaze.Jon Jr.’s gray eyes were level with his father’s, unswerving, unafraid.He made a bitter little smile.“I still don’t agree with you,” he said without preamble.“I don’t think the IPF is workable—and it’s certainly not in the best interests of the United States.”“But you threw your lot in with us when it counted,” Hazard said.“The hell I did!” Jon Jr.looked genuinely aggrieved.“I just didn’t see any sense in dying for a lost cause.”“Really?”“Cardillo and Buckbee and the rest of them were a bunch of idiots.If I had known how stupid they are I wouldn’t …” He stopped himself, grinned ruefully, and shrugged his shoulders.“This isn’t over, you know.You won the battle, but the war’s not ended yet.”“I’ll do what I can to get them to lighten your sentence,” Hazard said.“Don’t stick your neck out for me! I’m still dead set against you on this.”Hazard smiled wanly at the youngster.“And you’re still my son.”Jon Jr.blinked, looked away, then ducked through the hatch and made for a seat in the shuttle.Hazard formally turned the station over to its new commander, saluted one last time, then went into the shuttle’s passenger compartment.He hung there weightlessly a moment as the hatch behind him was swung shut and sealed.Most of the seats were already filled.There was an empty one beside Yang, but after their little scene at the hatch Hazard was hesitant about sitting next to her.He glided down the aisle and picked a seat that had no one next to it.Not one of his crew.Not Jon Jr.There’s a certain amount of loneliness involved in command, he told himself.It’s not wise to get too familiar with people you have to order into battle.He felt, rather than heard, a thump as the shuttle disengaged from the station’s air lock.He sensed the winged hypersonic spaceplane turning and angling its nose for reentry into the atmosphere.Back to … Hazard realized that home, for him, was no longer on Earth.For almost all of his adult life, home had been where his command was.Now his home was in space.The time he spent on Earth would be merely waiting time, suspended animation until his new command was ready.“Sir, may I intrude?”He looked up and saw Stromsen floating in the aisle by his seat.“What is it, Miss Stromsen?”She pulled herself down into the seat next to him but did not bother to latch the safety harness.From a breast pocket in her sweat-stained fatigues she pulled a tiny flat tin.It was marked with a red cross and some printing, hidden by her thumb.Stromsen opened the tin.“You lost your medication patch,” she said.“I thought you might want a fresh one.”She was smiling at him, shyly, almost like a daughter might.Hazard reached up and felt behind his left ear.She was right, the patch was gone.“I wonder how long ago …”“It’s been hours, at least,” said Stromsen.“Never noticed.”Her smile brightened.“Perhaps you don’t need it anymore.”He smiled back at her
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