EBOOK GRAVEYARD OF DREAMS ***
Produced by Greg Weeks, Tom Owens, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's note: This etext was produced from Galaxy
Magazine February 1958. Extensive research did not uncover
any evidence that the copyright on this publication was
renewed.
Graveyard of Dreams
By H. Beam Piper
_Despite Mr. Shakespeare,
wealth and name
are both dross compared with
the theft of hope--
and Maxwell had to rob
a whole planet of it!_
Standing at the armor-glass front of the observation deck and watching
the mountains rise and grow on the horizon, Conn Maxwell gripped the
metal hand-rail with painful intensity, as though trying to hold back
the airship by force. Thirty minutes--twenty-six and a fraction of the
Terran minutes he had become accustomed to--until he'd have to face it.
Then, realizing that he never, in his own thoughts, addressed himself as
"sir," he turned.
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