Bombs Awry
By George O. (George Oliver) Smith

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A Novelet by GEORGE O. SMITH

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I There were some new faces among the crew that crowded around him as he came up the runway into the air-lock, and the Vanguard rang with greeting: "Hi, Pete," or "Glad to see you again, Commander Ellsworth," depending upon how well they knew him. Peter felt a bit of nostalgia—but only briefly. The Vanguard had been both a comfortable and interesting berth; but in every man's life there were crossroads, and some of them demanded that he give up one course, however pleasant, in favor of something more promising. And some of them, like this one, took a man just across a tall fence, and let him brush occasionally against his former existence. "How're things going?" he asked. Toby Reed grinned. "Fine. We've still got a fine gang, Peter. We're stopping 'em all cold. We'll stop yours cold, too." Peter felt a mild flash of professional hostility. He was...