The Terror from the Depths

The Terror from the Depths is a Book of Literature. The book tells that "Good afternoon, sir", nodded Correy as I entered the navigating room. He glanced down at the two glowing three dimensional navigating charts, and drummed restlessly on the heavy frames. "Afternoon, Mr. Correy. Anything of interest to report?" "Not a thing, sir!" growled my fire eating first officer. "I'm about ready to quit the Service and get a job on one of the passenger liners, just on the off chance that something exciting might eventually happen". "You were born a few centuries too late", I chuckled. Correy loved a fight more than any man I ever knew. "The Universe has become pretty well quieted down". "Oh, it isn't that; it's just this infernal routine. Just one routine patrol after another; they should call it the Routine Patrol Service. That's what the silver sleeves at the Base are making of it, sir". At the moment, Correy meant every word he said. Even old timers develop cases of nerves, now and then, on long tours of duty in small ships like the Ertak. Particularly men like Correy, whose bodies crave physical action. There wasn't much opportunity for physical activity on the Ertak ; she was primarily a fighting ship, small and fast, with every inch of space devoted to some utilitarian use. I knew just how Correy felt, because I'd felt the same way a great many times. I was young, then, one of the youngest commanders the Special Patrol Service had ever had, and I recognized Correy's symptoms in a twinkling.