STOWAWAYLieutenant Johnny Norsen, his lanky body sprawled uncomfortably in an acceleration chair, was playing Spartan rules with the darts, and paused only momentarily before each shot. Spartan rules were pretty Spartan, but in spite of the handicaps he hit the bull’s eye six times out of six and grunted in disgust.
He complained, to no one in particular, “This was a swell game when we first brought it aboard. Now everybody is as good as it’s possible to get. We might as well flush it overboard.”
No one in particular happened to be d**k Roland, ship’s navigator. He looked up from the onion skin, paper bound history he was reading. “Ummm,” he said vaguely. “Maybe we could toughen up the rules.”
“How?” Norsen grumbled. “They’re as tough already as it’s possible to get them. We’d have to c
