like a real spacer. "Thanks," he said. "And my compliments to the chef. I never ate like that in my life."
"Gallantry, yet," said Michelle, smiling. "If that's true, they must not have fed you very well where you came from."
"They starved us," Kelly said seriously.
"Enjoy the good life while you can," Achmed chimed in. "Pretty soon we'll be out of fresh rations and on freezedrys, and when those run out we'll be
eating concentrates unless we're lucky enough to find edible native stuff."
"Ah . . ." Kelly started, unsure that he should say anything.
"Speak up," the skipper urged. "We're all shipmates here."
"This may sound pretty dumb."
"Go ahead." Bert grinned "Everybody gets to say six dumb things on his first voyage. It's an old custom."
"Well, it's just that, here I am in space, and I haven't seen space yet. I mean, not space, but the stars, and, you know—what I guess I'm saying is, is there a window or porthole or something on this ship? So far, it's like being in a building; just not very real. If I could just see the stars, I'd know I was really here."
"Why, to be sure," Finn said, "there's an old navigator's bubble that opens off my instrument compartment. When the S,pace Angel was built, it was still required that there be a place where the navigator could take visual sightings if the instruments failed, though I never heard of such things being any use for charting a course in deep space. When you've finished your galley chores, drop in and I'll open her up. I've not had a look at the stars in a score of voyages."
"I'll be along too, if you don't mind," Bert said. "It would be nice to resurrect the old thrill of being in space. At my age, such nostalgia has a rejuvenating effect."
In all, eight of the ship's company showed up at the observation bubble. A circular area five meters in diameter, its instrument consoles had long since been ripped out, and the air was musty with disuse. Ham brought a box of Taurus cigars, Bert several bottles of wine and some glasses. Nancy arrived with her violin. While the Communications officer tuned up, Torwald whipped out his knife, produced a corkscrew, and began opening bottles.
"Never be without a corkscrew," he instructed Kelly. "It's a tool of survival required throughout the civilized portions of the galaxy."
Kelly sat on the carpeting covering the floor, looking up. Overhead stretched a dome of near-invisible glassite through which the stars and planets shone with a clarity never seen by ground-dwellers. Finn began to point out to Kelly the principal stars and name the planets.
Bert took it upon himself to expound philisophi-cally. "My boy, out there you see the Universe, with a capital U. Of course, you have always been able to see the universe by looking in any direction. But, out here, you perceive it with a clarity lacking in any environment encumbered by an atmosphere. And let me tell you, it is strange and enigmatic."
"Weird is a better word," said Ham.
"Things happen out here," Finn nodded in agreement, "which I would consider unbelievable if they happened anywhere on Earth—except, perhaps, in Ireland."
"Oh, no," Michelle whispered to Torwald. "Now they're going to bombard the poor kid with spacers' folklore."
There was a brief pause, them a deep voice asked in sepulchral tones, "Son, have you ever heard of the Blue Lights?"
"I think I read about them somewhere, Ham."
"Well, they're little balls of blue flame that infest a ship just before some disaster occurs. I've known spacers who've seen them."
"And then, there are the Ghost Ships," Finn added while mixing his wine with the contents of a small flask he carried in a hip pocket. "Old ships bearing the names of vessels that never reported home, and they appear to men on doomed expeditions. I saw one once."
"I thought you never came out to the observation bubble, Finn."
"I've a confession to make, Kelly. Secretly, I've of-tcn come out to the Navigation bubble to look at the Mars and meditate.
Christopher Golden, Thomas E. Sniegoski