a full lieutenant next week, and he's promised you a transfer to BuShips or Second Fleet—your choice."
"Transfer?"
"Personally," Anderson said, peering out the ground car window, "I think you'd probably learn more with Admiral Timoshenko, but if you go to Second Fleet, you should arrive in time for the Theban invasion, and combat duty always looks good on a young officer's record, so—"
"Just a minute, sir." Young Ensign Mallory had matured considerably, and he broke in on his boss without the flustered bashfulness he once had shown. "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to finish the war with you."
"I'm sorry, Andy," Anderson turned to him with genuine regret, "but it just isn't possible."
"Why not? When you get back from Old Terra and—"
"I'm not coming back," Anderson said gently. "I'm resigning."
"You're resigning now? When everything's finally coming together?" Mallory looked and sounded shocked.
"As you say,