Sea Legs

By FRANK QUATTROCCHI
Illustrated by EMSH
Rootless and footloose, a man in space can't help but dream of coming home. But something nobody should do is bet on the validity of a homesick dream!
Flight Officer Robert Craig surrendered the tube containing his service record tapes and stood waiting while the bored process clerk examined the seal.
Your clearance, said the clerk.
Craig handed him a battered punch card and watched the man insert it in the reproducer. He felt anxiety as the much-handled card refused for a time to match the instrument's metal contact points. The line of men behind Craig fidgeted.
You got to get this punched by Territorial, said the clerk. Take it back to your unit's clearance office.
Look again, Sergeant, Craig said, repressing his irritation.
It ain't notched.
The hell it isn't.
The man examined the card with squinting care and nodded finally. It's so damn notched, he complained. You ought to take care of that card; can't get on without one.
Craig hesitated before moving.