And now the Wanderer was on the first interstellar flight, hurtling through the dark spaces to Proxima Centauri. Moving silently, as if motionless, yet at a speed of 160,000 miles a second. And ahead loomed the great, gray planet, the only planet of the sun, growing larger, larger, each instant....
————
A gentle, murmuring hum filled the ship. The indicator lights on the control panel glowed like a swarm of pink eyes.
"Deceleration compensator adjusted for 12 G's, sir," reported Lieutenant Gunderson.
Captain Wiley nodded, still studying the image of the planet.
"There—there's something else, Captain."
"Yes?"
"It's Brown, sir. He's drunk."
Captain Wiley turned, a scowl on his hard, lined face. "Drunk? Where'd he get the stuff?"
"He saved it, sir, saved it for nine years. Said he was going to drink it when we discovered life."