Fourteen-year-old Welkin Quinn glanced at the bulkhead. The time<br > dial showed that he was five minutes late for his duty shift， The<br > captain would probably have him tossed in the ship s recyclers and<br > inquire as to his tardiness later. He finished tugging on his boots，<br > checked his uniform in the tiny mirror his ensign s quarters barely<br > warranted， and exited at a run.<br > As he dashed along corridors and charged recklessly around cor-<br > nets， he regretted that humans were restricted to sub-light speed，<br > otherwise he could have been at his duty station on the bridge before<br > he even got his boots on. If subatomic particles could do it， why<br > couldn t he?<br > The final elevator ride up three levels was sheer agony. He d never<br > noticed before how slow these things were! He checked himself in the<br > mirrored surface of the elevator doors. Everything looked okay， but<br > Captain Sobol was notorious for finding fault. Rumor had it that Elder<br > Sobel--.as he was known off the bridge--possessed scanning electron<br > microscopes instead of eyes. How else could he spot a speck of lint<br > the size of a chlorine molecule?<br > Welkin slammed to a stop outside the bridge entrance. He quickly<br > polished his brand-new ensign s insignia--since he figured he<br > wouldn t be keeping it for much longer!--tugged his tunic straight，<br > and walked in with the pretended nonchalance of an old spacer ready<br > for anything.<br > The bridge was a hive of activity. Nevertheless， Captain Sobol s<br >