That the psychology boys had been right again,
annoyed the veteran captain. He'd felt like a
mechanical man all the time. Never would have
believed he could send men to their death like
that. And the ship! He might have lost everything!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories May 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"Well, Skipper, we'll be in Mercury's com zone in ten hours, plus orminus a half."
Captain Evan Grimes eyed his chief engineer sternly. "How'd you know Iwouldn't have the recorder turned on, Manson? That could have cost youa week's pay."
"Sorry, sir," Bill Manson saluted, still smiling.
"I don't mean the salutation, you bonehead. It's been five years sincethe Service banned the name Mercury for Primus, and I've heard it usedat least three times on this trip."
"I'll make out a voluntary on it."
"Forget it. I don't like those spying recorders any more than youdo, but I don't like to see a man throwing his money away either.Especially when he's on a job where he'll probably earn every dollar ofit."
Manson pulled a fade-away chair from its wall socket and pressed thegreen button.
He waited two seconds for the cushion to inflate, then relaxed in it."So you really think it's going to be rough," he said casually.
Grimes swung his chair ninety degrees and studied the planet, Primus,looming ever larger on the television screen. There were small breaksin the cloud formations, but it was still too early to glimpse any ofthe compact little cities.
"We aren't the first group to tackle this mystery, you know, and we'dbe hard put to prove we were the best, from what I've read of thereports."
The engineer scratched his carefully trimmed beard and didn't appear atall worried. "If you'd like to know how I feel about it," he grinned,"my wedding date's already set for next June."
The captain had to smile. "I attribute your optimism to yourinexperience," he said. "Even assuming that we escape with our necks,what makes you think we'll have it cleared up before June? I've got areputation for doing things the cautious way, you know."
Manson shrugged. "I've heard of that code they drum into you at SpaceAcademy. Your ship is your life. Every speck of meteoric dust thatsticks to its hide is your responsibility. And right along with theship comes the crew. Each member a ten million dollar investment—notone hair of his head to be risked unnecessarily."
"You're a little inaccurate in the phraseology, but go on. What are youdriving at?"
"Nothing special. That's all fine and dandy for escorting bug-huntersaround Mars, but this is a combat mission. First one in a hundredyears. Not a man in the Service has ever been on a combat mission. I'dgive plenty to hear what's on the tape this time."
"What makes you think there is a tape?"
Manson pushed the red button on the chair and let it slide out fromunder him, deflating itself with a swoosh. "There's always a tape. Thisone should be a lulu. I won't be surprised to see you storm out of herein about nine hours with blood in your eye and X pistols hanging onboth hips."
"And I won't be surprised to see you flying out of here head first inabout two seconds," Grimes shouted. "I'll accept your maximum estimateof ten and a half hours. That'll be soon enough to establish contact.Now get out."
Manson paused in the doorway. "It's just one forty and three," he said."Shall I write in the journal that the engineer was commended for thefast trip?"
"We aren't in yet. All I said was get out."
The engineer scurried thr