Breathes there a man

by Charles E. Fritch

"Of course," Arthur admitted, smiling. He indicated a porthole. "But look at Earth down there."

They crowded to see. It was a large green ball, glowing iridescently, becoming smaller as they approached the prison colony that was not a prison colony. Julie shrank into Arthur's arms.

"It's beautiful," she said.

Austen said, "Why, it looks fragile, like you could reach out from here and—and smash it." There was awe and wonder in his voice.

"You can," Keating said, "if necessary." His eyes narrowed. "It's a perfect target, a sitting duck from the sky. Who owns the Moon controls Earth."

"I'd like to apologize," Samson said, offering his outstretched hand to Arthur.

"Me, too," Julie said.

"I'll accept both apologies," Arthur Dunlop said, "but from you, Julie, I won't settle for a handshake."

Julie took the hint.

"We have a lot of time yet, so we may as well all relax," Keating announced. "Arthur and I can brief you on the situation as it stands." He grinned. "If he ever comes up for air!"