AVOIDANCE SITUATION

BY JAMES MC CONNELL

What can a man do when he alone must decide the fate of Earth and all its people—and when the choices offered him are slavery and death....

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, February 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

Captain Allen Hawkins stood quietly in the observation room of the Sunward looking out at subspace. He was a medium-sized man with a trim squareness to him that suggested he had been in the military most of his life. He had a good deal of gold on his sleeve and a good deal of silver in his hair, and he had discovered in his many years in the Space Navy that the two usually went hand in hand. In the background he could hear the noise and ordered confusion of the ship's bridge. But at the moment he paid it little attention, concentrating instead on the observation window.

It was not the first time that he had stood thus, gazing at whatever lay beyond the shell of the ship. Almost every time he had put the Sunward through the dark shadow of subspace, he had deserted the bridge for at least a few moments to come and stare out the window.

"God," he said out loud, repressing a shiver that wanted to crawl down his spine.

"Perhaps 'God forsaken' would be a better description," came a voice from behind him.

The voice belonged to Dr. J. L. Broussard, the Sunward's senior psychologist. And although the two men were on more than casually friendly terms, Hawkins didn't turn to greet him. The fascination of the observation port seemed to obviate the normal requirements of courtesy. "At times like this I think you're right. 'God forsaken.' That's just what it is," Hawkins said. "Completely black, completely empty. You know, it frightens me every time we make the jump through it."

A voice from the bridge called out, "Twelve minutes until zero. No noticeable deviations, Captain."

"Very well," Hawkins said loudly enough to be heard on the bridge.

"Perhaps it frightens all of us just a little," said Broussard. He leaned his oversized body against the observation room wall. His big, mild face had a relaxed look to it. "I wonder why it affects us that way," he added almost as if 

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