Bull turned his head to look at the bandaged figure in the next bed.
"Kind of hard to recognize, I guess."
The voice was familiar. "How come all those fancy bandages, Space Cadet?"
Skip's voice was bitter and self-accusing. "Space Cadet is right. I was outside working on those tubes and never noticed we were getting close to the sun. I must have got a full dose of heat. How dumb can a guy get?"
There was a silence between them. Then Bull spoke. "You saved my life out there, Skip. I couldn't have pulled myself in. That took guts. Thanks."
"What do you call that last act of yours? There isn't another man on this ship that could—or would—have held on with those arms like that."
Both men looked at one another. There would be times when experience and formal education might conflict in the future; but the remarks would never have an edge that mutual admiration wouldn't dull.
"Admiring one another's bravery?"
Both men shifted their eyes to the doorway where Captain Stevens stood. Resentment rose in both of them. Did he have to call them down and rub it in at a time like this?
"Well? What have you got to say for yourselves?"