It is, as far as we can tell, the only war in human history in which Mankind is fully justified as the invading aggressor.
It is not a defensive war; neither space nor other planets have attacked Man. Man has invaded space “simply because it is there.” It is war of a different sort, true, but it is nonetheless a war.
The Space Service was used to the kind of battle it waged on Eisberg. It was prepared to lose men, but even more prepared to save them.
21
Mike the Angel stepped into the cargo air lock of the Brainchild, stood morosely in the center of the cubicle, and watched the outer door close. Eight other men, clad, like himself, in regulation Space Service spacesuits, also looked wearily at the closing door.
Chief Multhaus, one of the eight, turned his head to look at Mike the Angel. “I wish that thing would close as fast as my eyes are going to in about fifteen minutes, Commander.” His voice rumbled deeply in Mike’s earphones.
“Yeah,” said Mike, too tired to make decent conversation.
Eight hours—all of them spent tearing down the spaceship and making it a part of the new base—had not been exactly exhilarating to any of them.