“A quarter of a standard century,” said Donal.

“Thirty-three years absolute,” said ArDell. “I was a school-child, a monk, until I was twenty-nine. Do you think I drink too much?”

“I think there’s no doubt about it,” answered Donal.

“I agree with you,” said ArDell, with one of his sudden snorts of laughter. “I agree with you. There’s no doubt about it—one of the few things in this God-abandoned universe about which there is no doubt. But that’s not what I was hoping to talk to you about.”

“What was that?” Donal tasted his glass of whiskey again.

“Courage,” said ArDell, looking at him with an empty, penetrating glance. “Have you got courage?” “It’s a necessary item for a soldier,” said Donal. “Why do you ask?”

“And no doubts? No doubts?” ArDell swirled the golden drink in his tall tumbler and took a swallow from it. “No secret fears that when the moment comes your legs will weaken, your heart will pound, you’ll turn and run?”

“I will not, of course, turn and run,” said Donal. “After all, I’m a Dorsai. As for how I’ll feel—all I can say is, I’ve never felt the way you describe. And even if I did—”

Above their heads a single mellow chime sounded, interrupting.

“Phase shift in one standard hour and twenty minutes,” announced a voice. “Phase shift in one standard hour and twenty minutes. Passengers are advised to take their medication now and accomplish the shift while asleep, for their greatest convenience.”

“Have you swallowed a pill yet?” asked ArDell.

“Not yet,” said Donal.

“But you will?”

“Of course.” Donal examined him with interest. “Why not?”

“Doesn’t taking medication to avoid the discomfort of a phase shift strike you as a form of cowardice?” asked ArDell. “Doesn’t it?”

“That’s foolish,” said Donal. “Like saying it’s cowardly to wear clothes to keep you warm and comfortable, or to eat, to keep from starving. One is a matter of convenience; the other is a matter of”— he thought for a second—“duty.”

“Courage is doing your duty?”

“. . . In spite of what you personally might want. Yes,” said Donal.

“Yes,” said ArDell, thoughtfully. “Yes.” He replaced his empty glass on the bar and pressed for a refill. “I thought you had courage,” he said, musingly, watching the glass sink, fill, and begin to re-emerge.

“I am a Dorsai,” said Donal.

“Oh, spare me the glories of careful breeding!” said ArDell, harshly, picking up his now-full glass. As he turned back to face Donal, Donal saw the man’s face was tortured. “There’s more to courage than that. If it was only in your genes—” he broke off suddenly, and leaned toward Donal. “Listen to me,” he almost whispered. “I’m a coward.”

“Are you sure?” said Donal, levelly. “How do you know?”