They proceeded two hundred yards toward the stern where the Specimen Analysis Laboratory was located. In one long room there was a row of totally automatic equipment for both deepfreeze and normal temperature breakdowns. Sommers, the chief chemist, set the specimen box in a large, sealed chamber with one transparent side. When the inside temperature matched that within the box itself fine robot fingers unlocked it, withdrew samples and shifted them toward various test compartments. Meanwhile, Chisholm explained about the crystal cloud to the chemist.
"That must have been an exceptional batch," Sommers said, as he studied the response dial. "Very little moisture here. Nothing important to that one way or the other, though. Matter of fact, nothing important to these specimens in general—usual asteroid run."
Hartley impassively considered the shocked expression on Cramer's face.
"Confined to quarters for the rest of the voyage," snapped the General, turning his back on the miscreant.
As Hartley led his ward to scout quarters, he kept shaking his head. "Shouldn't make trouble like that, Cramer. See where it gets you? I can't get ahead in this man's service so how far do you think you can go?"
"But you didn't tell him the most important thing. And the material in the lab didn't give off any whiteness even when its temperature was raised. I don't think you put in any new chips the third time you went out—I think you're trying to hide something!"
"Sure, right here." He pulled a pocket inside out. A few tobacco shreds were clinging to the lining. "Go ahead, tell them more and you'll keep getting into deeper trouble. Nobody will believe you anyway."
They stopped by the Recreation Room entrance to watch a foursome at ping pong. It was a good game, requiring special skill since the artificial gravity of the dreadnought-class craft varied slightly from that of Earth, "Come along," Hartley said finally, "no human company for you until touchdown. When we're on terra firma I'll show you how silly you've been and you can get in on the ground floor for something really big."
Saying nothing, Cramer stepped into his little windowless cabin and listened as his door was locked from the outside. He broke open an emergency ration bar, munching sullenly until the idea came to him that the asteroid experience had to involve some new kind of drug Hartley wanted to keep to himself. He would have to convince the authorities that the matter warranted further investigation, chain of command rules or no rules.