The Terror from the Depths

"Good afternoon, sir," nodded Correy as I entered the navigating room.
He glanced down at the two glowing three-dimensional navigating charts,
and drummed restlessly on the heavy frames.

"Afternoon, Mr. Correy. Anything of interest to report?"

"Not a thing, sir!" growled my fire-eating first officer. "I'm about
ready to quit the Service and get a job on one of the passenger liners,
just on the off chance that something exciting might eventually happen."

"You were born a few centuries too late," I chuckled. Correy loved a
fight more than any man I ever knew. "The Universe has become pretty
well quieted down."

"Oh, it isn't that; it's just this infernal routine. Just one routine
patrol after another; they should call it the Routine Patrol Service.
That's what the silver-sleeves at the Base are making of it, sir."

At the moment, Correy meant every word he said. Even old-timers develop
cases of nerves, now and then, on long tours of duty in small ships like
the _Ertak_. Particularly men like Correy, whose bodies crave physical
action.

There wasn't much opportunity for physical activity on the _Ertak_; she
was primarily a fighting ship, small and fast, with every inch of space
devoted to some utilitarian use. I knew just how Correy felt, because
I'd felt the same way a great many times. I was young, then, one of the
youngest commanders the Special Patrol Service had ever had, and I
recognized Correy's symptoms in a twinkling.

"We'll be re-outfitting at the Arpan sub-base in a couple of days," I
said carelessly. "Give us a chance to stretch our legs. Have you seen
anything of the liner that spoke to us yesterday?" I was just making
conversation, to get his mind out of its unhealthy channel.

"The _Kabit_? Yes, sir; we passed her early this morning, lumbering
along like the big fat pig that she is." A pig, I should explain, is a
food animal of Earth; a fat and ill-looking creature of low
intelligence. "The old _Ertak_ went by her as though she were standing
still. She'll be a week and more arriving at Arpan. Look: you can just
barely make her out on the charts."