"Guess so," Mike agreed gloomily. "Why are all these baboons so happy?" He indicated the clustered groups of Spacemen who regarded them smilingly as they passed and talked excitedly among themselves.
"Dunno. Maybe they like the thought of admirals and captains getting chewed down."
They paused briefly outside the door marked:
Adm. Garrison,
G.G. Port Admiral
O'Brien shrugged. "Here goes nothin'."
Inside, the tall, balding man behind the desk jumped to his feet with a grin. "Jack! Mike! Boy, you two guys certainly beat anything I ever saw. Talk about your heroes...."
"Cut it, George," Harrigan growled, "you don't have to rub it in."
"Rub what in? Great Caesar, hasn't anyone told you yet? You guys won the war, that's all!"
"Yeah. On the seat of our pants at Antares III," O'Brien muttered.
"But I'm telling you, damnit!" Garrison came around the desk and clapped them on the shoulders. "Those League ships you brought down were heading for home with the Hyper-drive secret. And you stopped them."