The President shook hands with him and said, "I am President of the
United Solar System, Captain Mathers, supposedly the highest rank to
which a man can attain." He added simply, "I wish I were you."
* * * * *
Afterwards, alone in New Washington and wanting to remain alone, Don
Mathers strolled the streets for a time, bothered only occasionally when
someone recognized his face and people would stop and applaud.
He grinned inwardly.
He had a suspicion already that after a time he'd get used to it and
weary to death of it, but right now it was still new and fun. Who was
the flyer, way back in history, the one who first flew the Atlantic in a
propeller-driven aircraft? His popularity must have been something like
this.
He went into O'Donnell's at lunch time and as he entered the orchestra
broke off the popular tune they were playing and struck up the
Interplanetary Anthem. The manager himself escorted him to his table and
made suggestions as to the specialties and the wine.
When he first sat down the other occupants of the restaurant, men and
women, had stood and faced him and applauded. Don flushed. There could
be too much of a good thing.
After the meal, a fantastic production, Don finished his cigar and asked
the head waiter for his bill, reaching for his wallet.
The other smiled. "Captain, I am afraid your money is of no value in
O'Donnell's, not for just this luncheon but whenever you honor us." The
head waiter paused and added, "in fact, Captain, I doubt if there is a
restaurant in the Solar System where your money holds value. Or that
there will ever be."
Don Mathers was taken aback. He was only beginning to realize the
ramifications of his holding his Galactic Medal of Honor.
* * * * *
At Space Command Headquarters, Third Division, Don came to attention
before the Commodore's desk and tossed the other a salute.
The Commodore returned it snappily and leaned back in his chair. "Take
a seat, Captain. Nice to see you again." He added pleasantly, "Where in
the world have you been?"
Don Mathers slumped into a chair, said wearily, "On a bust. The bust to
end all busts."
The Commodore chuckled. "Don't blame you," he said.
"It was quite a bust," Don said.
"Well," the Commodore chuckled again, "I don't suppose we can throw you
in the guardhouse for being A.W.O.L. Not in view of your recent
decoration."
There was nothing to say to that.
"By the way," the Commodore said, "I haven't had the opportunity to
congratulate you on your Kraden. That was quite a feat, Captain."
"Thank you, sir," Don added, modestly, "rather foolish of me, I
suppose."
"Very much so. On such foolishness are heroic deeds based, Captain." The
Commodore looked at him questioningly. "You must have had incredible
luck. The only way we've been able to figure it was that his detectors
were on the blink. That may be what happened."
"Yes, sir," Don nodded quickly. "That's the way I figure it. And my
first blast must have disrupted his fire control or something."