Flight Perilous!

As Captain of the ship, Hiller knew full responsibility was his, if he ordered Marship III through the uncharted asteroid belt—to death!...
As Fred Hiller slid back the door to his quarters in answer to their knock, he found them lined up tensely against the bulkheads of the companionway.
It was the best assembly area the jammed ship could offer. Here the commander with a short turn of his head could meet any pair of eyes in the nine-man crew. They had met here before, in a more friendly atmosphere, soon after acceleration stopped and once for planning. He considered it more effective for personal communication than the ship speaker system.
But this assembly was different: it was their idea. They wanted a decision. They stood without moving, waiting for him to speak. Their discussions by this time probably had narrowed the alternatives to two.
As commander, of course, he was paid to make decisions on Marship III. And he began to realize by their faces which alternative the consensus expected. Their expressions indicated that in a degree every damn one of them was scared, scared enough to unitize their thinking.
Phil Bleck was the one fishing for an impressive opening. He moved forward to face the ship commander with hands pressed on his hips defiantly. This was the Phil Bleck, young man genius of United Nuclear, pressured aboard Marship III as nuclear engineer through a couple of Senators and the Secretary of Defense. Oh, he was good, as long as he wasn't under fire. So good posterity required him and he was obligated to save his skin. Hiller had expected Bleck would be the spokesman.
We want to know if you decided yet, Hiller, Bleck nearly mocked.
I'd have called this assembly if I had, Fred Hiller replied, emphasizing a commanderish tone of voice.
Then you haven't. Bleck turned to the others significantly and brought back with him a harsher gaze, which he leveled at the commander. Most of us here think there's only one sane way out. A couple will go along with any decision. But most of us, including me, want to turn back. Isn't that right? He turned again to the men for support. Some nodded.