Now he would sleep forever in space.
When the rocket landed, the crowds were there, waving and shouting out Murdock's name as he appeared on the silver ramp. He smiled and raised his hand in salute, standing there tall in the sun, his splendid dress uniform reflecting the light in a thousand glittering patterns.
At the far end of the ramp two figures waited. An old man, bowed and trembling over a cane, and a seamed and wrinkled woman, her hair blowing white, her eyes shining.
When the tall spaceman reached them they embraced him feverishly, clinging tight to his arms.
Their son had returned. Robert Murdock had come home from space.
"Well," said a man at the fringe of the crowd, "there they go."
His companion sighed and shook his head. "I still don't think it's right somehow. It just doesn't seem right to me."
"It's what they wanted, isn't it?" asked the other. "It's what they wrote in their wills. They vowed their son would never come home to death. In another month he'll be gone anyway. Back for another twenty years. Why ruin it all for him?" The man paused, shading his eyes against the sun. "And they are perfect, aren't they? He'll never know."