"You don't dare," he rumbled. His feet scraped on the floor. "I'll disembowel the first man to reach me." He lashed out and sent the massive bronze desk lurching aside, clearing the way between himself and Falconer's party. And he waited, while the other men sent sidelong glances at Falconer and Falconer's eyes slowly fell. Then Brendan grunted. "This is why I'm in charge. Charters and successions don't mean a thing after four hundred years. Not if a good man goes against them. You'll keep on taking my orders."
"What kind of paranoiac's world do you live in?" Falconer said bitterly. "Imposing your will on all of us. Doing everything your way and no other. We're not saying your methods are absolutely going to wreck the project, but—"
"What?"
"We've all got a stake in this. We've all got children in the nursery, the same way you do."
"I don't favor my son over any of the others. Get that idea out of your head."
"How do we know? Do we have anything to do with the nursery? Are we allowed inside?"
"I'm this generation's bio-technician and pedagogical specialist. That's the Captain's particular job. That's the way it's been since the crash—by the same tradition you were quoting—and that's the way it has to be. This is a delicate business. One amateur meddling in it can destroy everything we're doing and everything that was done in the past. And we'll never have another chance."
"All right. But where's the harm in looking in on them? What's your point in not letting us at the cameras?"
"They're being overhauled. We're going to need to have them in perfect working order tomorrow, when we open the nursery gates to the outside. That's when it'll be important to look in on the children and make sure everything's all right."