McIvers made an impatient gesture with his hands. “It doesn’t matter. I just feel better when I’m on the move. Does it make any difference?”
“I guess it doesn’t,” said the Major. “Then you’ll flank Peter along with me. Right?”
“Sure, sure.” McIvers pulled at his lower lip. “Who’s going to do the advance scouting?”
“It sounds like I am,” I cut in. “We want to keep the lead Bug light as possible.”
Mikuta nodded. “That’s right. Peter’s Bug is stripped down to the frame and wheels.”
McIvers shook his head. “No, I mean the advance work. You need somebody out ahead—four or five miles, at least—to pick up the big flaws and active surface changes, don’t you?” He stared at the Major. “I mean, how can we tell what sort of a hole we may be moving into, unless we have a scout up ahead?”
“That’s what we have the charts for,” the Major said sharply.
“Charts! I’m talking about detail work. We don’t need to worry about the major topography. It’s the little faults you can’t see on the pictures that can kill us.” He tossed the charts down excitedly. “Look, let me take a Bug out ahead and work reconnaissance, keep five, maybe ten miles ahead of the column. I can stay on good solid ground, of course, but scan the area closely and radio back to Peter where to avoid the flaws. Then—”
“No dice,” the Major broke in.
“But why not? We could save ourselves days!”