Ladder and passage, door and locker,

fit for the needs of the yet unborn.

He looked on His work and found it pleasing,

meet for a race that was yet to be.

He thought of Man—Man came into being—

checked his thought and searched for the key.

Man untamed would shame his Maker,

Man unruled would spoil the Plan;

So Jordan made the Regulations,

orders to each single man,

Each to a task and each to a station,

serving a purpose beyond their ken,

Some to speak and some to listen—

order came to the ranks of men.

Crew He created to work at their stations,

scientists to guide the Plan.

Over them all He created the Captain,

made him judge of the race of Man.

Thus it was in the Golden Age!

Jordan is perfect, all below him

lack perfection in their deeds.

Envy, Greed, and Pride of Spirit sought

for minds to lodge their seeds.

One there was who gave them lodging—

accursed Huff, the first to sin!

His evil counsel stirred rebellion,

planted doubt where it had not been;

Blood of martyrs stained the floor plates,

Jordan’s Captain made the Trip.

Darkness swallowed up—”

The old man gave the boy the back of his hand, sharp across the mouth. “Try again!”

“From the beginning?”

“No! From where you missed.”

The boy hesitated, then caught his stride:

“Darkness swallowed ways of virtue,

Sin prevailed throughout the Ship…”

The boy’s voice droned on, stanza after stanza, reciting at great length but with little sharpness of detail the old, old story of sin, rebellion, and the time of darkness. How wisdom prevailed at last and the bodies of the rebel leaders were fed to the Converter. How some of the rebels escaped making the Trip and lived to father the muties. How a new Captain was chosen, after prayer and sacrifice.

Hugh stirred uneasily, shuffling his feet. No doubt the answers to his questions were there, since these were the Sacred Lines, but he had not the wit to understand them. Why? What was it all about? Was there really nothing more to life than eating and sleeping and finally the long Trip? Didn’t Jordan intend for him to understand? Then why this ache in his breast? This hunger that persisted in spite of good eating?

While he was breaking his fast after sleep an orderly came to the door of his uncle’s compartments. “The scientist requires the presence of Hugh Hoyland,” he recited glibly.

Hugh knew that the scientist referred to was Lieutenant Nelson, in charge of the spiritual and physical welfare of the Ship’s sector which included Hugh’s native village. He bolted the last of his breakfast and hurried after the messenger.

“Cadet Hoyland!” he was announced. The scientist looked up from his own meal and said:

“Oh, yes. Come in, my boy. Sit down. Have you eaten?”

Hugh acknowledged that he had, but his eyes rested with interest on the fancy fruit in front of his superior. Nelson followed his glance. “Try some of these figs. They’re a new mutation—I had them brought all the way from the far side. Go ahead—a man your age always has somewhere to stow a few more bites.”

Hugh accepted with much self-consciousness. Never before had he eaten in the presence of a scientist. The elder leaned back in his chair, wiped his fingers on his shirt, arranged his beard, and started in.

“I haven’t seen you lately, son. Tell me what you have been doing with yourself.” Before Hugh could reply he went on: “No, don’t tell me—I will tell you. For one thing you have been exploring, climbing, without too much respect for the forbidden areas. Is it not so?” He held the young man’s eye. Hugh fumbled for a reply.

But he was let off again. “Never mind. I know, and you know that I know. I am not too displeased. But it has brought it forcibly to my attention that it is time that you decided what you are to do with your life. Have you any plans?”

“Well—no definite ones, sir.”

“How about that girl, Edris Baxter? D’you intend to marry her?”

“Why—uh—I don’t know, sir. I guess I want to, and her father is willing, I think. Only—”

“Only what?”