_There are all kinds of heroes. And the
irony of it all lies in the fact that the
bravest are those who are unknown and unsung._
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, April 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Wade Boeman let his eyes wander up the hull of the huge silver ship. He
thought; _if only Tomer were here now!_ He caught himself and quickly
erased the thought before he remembered more ... things that were better
left alone, hidden behind the thin veil he had created in his mind.
The quick blink of a signal light from the tower caught the corner of
his eye. H-hour minus fifteen minutes. The ground crews had cleared
the area. He hadn't noticed. He turned to the huge, blond man standing
beside him.
"Well, Allen. This is it. I've checked everything myself. You should
have no trouble. Be sure and strap yourself in tightly and don't forget
to check the gyro. Its the only thing we can't double check from the
tower."
"You're all through instructing now, _teacher_," the blond man said.
"I can take it from here. And I can't say I'm sorry."
Wade wanted to say then all the little things that had been building up
within him during the past long months. He bit back the words. It took
much effort.