 What happened to Morgan Brockman by the end of the passage?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction November 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] Rootless and footloose, a man in space can't help but dream of coming home. Flight Officer Robert Craig surrendered the tube containing his service record tapes and stood waiting while the bored process clerk examined the seal. He felt anxiety as the much-handled card refused for a time to match the instrument's metal contact points. He crossed the long, dreary room, knowing the eyes of the other men were upon him. "Los Angeles." "Los Angeles, eh? "No specific destination," supplied the man as he punched a key on a small instrument, "Air-lock ahead and to your right. Any metal?" "Metal?" asked Craig. The knowledge that much of it was motivated by envy soothed him as he clumsily let himself into the lock. "Place your clothing in the receptacle provided and assume a stationary position on the raised podium in the center of the lock." Craig obeyed the robot voice and began reluctantly to remove his flight jacket. Stepping on the button with his bare foot produced an instant of brilliant blue illumination. He found his clothing cleanly and neatly hung on plastic hangers just inside the door to the dressing room. "Insert your right arm into the instrument on the central table," commanded the same voice he had heard before. When he withdrew his arm, the scratch was neatly coated with a layer of flesh-colored plastic material. He dressed quickly and was on the verge of asking the robot for instructions, when a man appeared in the open doorway. "Well, what's next?" asked Craig somewhat more belligerently than he had intended. "By 'home' you mean Terra. "No, but my father—" "Your parents left Terra during the Second Colonization of Cassiopeia II, didn't they?" "I was entered as a spaceman when I was 16," Craig said. "Mr. Craig, I suppose you've guessed that the next step in our little torture system here is psych." Short of Gravitational conditioning, there is nothing to stop you from going to Terra." You have spent eleven years in space. Your body is conditioned to a normal state of free fall, or at best to a state of acceleration." "You were ill, couldn't keep your balance, felt dizzy. It helps suppress certain physiological reactions to an entirely new set of conditions.
 He died on the way to Terra
 He died on the way to Terra  His ex-wife Ethel had him assassinated  He refused to leave his cot after conditioning  He was arrested for being a Freedomite