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will come back--better prepared. As for us, I am going to try to take the _Asgard_ back through the . . .
uh, 'hole' you might call it, where we came out. It's a chancy thing. No one is forced to come along--but
it is the only possible way to get home. Anyone who's afraid to chance it will be landed on the north pole
of planet number three--the evening star we have been calling 'Aphrodite.' You may be able to survive
there, although it is pretty hot even at the poles. If you prefer that alternative, turn your names in this
evening to the Purser. The rest of us will try to get home." He stopped, then said suddenly, "That's all,"
and sat down.
There was no applause and he felt glumly that he had muffed his first appearance. Conversation
started up around the room, crewmen left, and steward's mates quickly started serving. Ellie looked at
him and nodded quietly. Mrs. Mendoza was on his left; she said, "Ma--I mean 'Captain'--is it really so
dangerous? I hardly like the thought of trying anything _risky_. Isn't there something else we can do?"
"No."
"But surely there must be?"
"No. I'd rather not discuss it at the table."
"But . . ." He went on firmly spooning soup, trying not to tremble. When he looked up he was caught
by a glittering eye across the table, a Mrs. Montefiore, who preferred to be called "Principessa"--a
dubious title. "Dolores, don't bother him. We want to hear about his adventures--don't we, Captain?"
"No."
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"Come now! I hear that it was terribly _romantic_." She drawled the word and gave Ellie a sly,
sidelong look. She looked back at Max with the eye of a predatory bird and showed her teeth. She
seemed to have more teeth than was possible. "Tell us _all_ about it!"
"No."
"But you simply _can't_ refuse!"
Eldreth smiled at her and said, "Princess darling-- your mouth is showing."
Mrs. Montefiore shut up.
After dinner Max caught Walther alone. "Mr. Walther?"
"Oh--yes, Captain?"
"Am I correct in thinking that it is my privilege to pick the persons who sit at my table?"
"Yes, sir."
"In that case--that Montefiore female. Will you have her moved, please? Before breakfast?"
Walther smiled faintly. "Aye aye, sir."
21
THE CAPTAIN OF THE ASGARD
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They took Sam down and buried him where he had fallen. Max limited it to himself and Walther and
Giordano, sending word to Ellie not to come. There was a guard of honor but it was armed to kill and
remained spread out around the grave, eyes on the hills. Max read the service in a voice almost too low
to be heard--the best he could manage.
Engineering had hurriedly prepared the marker, a pointed slab of stainless metal. Max looked at it
before he placed it and thought about the inscription. "Greater love hath no man"?--no, he had decided
that Sam wouldn't like that, with his cynical contempt of all sentimentality. He had considered, "He played
the cards he was dealt"--but that didn't fit Sam either; if Sam didn't like the cards, he sometimes slipped
in a whole new deck. No, this was more Sam's style; he shoved it into the ground and read it:
IN MEMORY OF
SERGEANT SAM ANDERSON
LATE OF THE
IMPERIAL MARINES
"_He ate what was set before him_."
Walther saw the marker for the first time. "So that's how it was? Somehow I thought so."
"Yes. I never did know his right name. Richards. Or maybe Roberts."
"Oh." Walther thought over the implication. "We could get him reinstated, sir, posthumously. His
prints will identify him."
"I think Sam would like that."
"I'll see to it, sir, when we get back."
"_If_ we get back."
"If you please, Captain--when we get back."
Max went straight to the control room. He had been up the evening before and had gotten the first
shock of being treated as captain in the Worry Hole over with. When Kelly greeted him with, "Good
morning, Captain," he was able to be almost casual.
"Morning, Chief. Morning, Lundy."
"Coffee, sir?"
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"Thanks. About that parking orbit--is it set up?"
"Not yet, sir."
"Then forget it. I've decided to head straight back. We can plan it as we go. Got the films?"
"I picked them up earlier." They referred to the films cached in Max's stateroom. Simes had managed
to do away with the first set at the time of Captain Blaine's death; the reserve set was the only record of
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