Novee interposed. “You’ve had a bad concussion, nearly a fracture, Sheffield. Take it easy.”
“Well, what hap—Where’s Mark? Where’s Mark? ”
“Easy. Easy now.” Novee put a hand on each of Sheffield’s shoulders and pressed him down.
Cimon said, “Your boy is in the brig. In case you want to know why, he deliberately caused mutiny on board ship, thus endangering the safety of five men. We were almost marooned at our temporary camp, because the crew wanted to leave immediately. He persuaded them, the captain did, to pick us up.”
Sheffield remembered now, very vaguely. There was just that fuzzy memory of Mark and a man with a bat. Mark saying “…A thousand people all dead—”
The psychologist hitched himself up on one elbow with a tremendous effort. “Listen, Cimon, I don’t know why Mark did it, but let me talk to him. I’ll find out.”
Cimon said, “No need of that. It will all come out at the trial.”
Sheffield tried to brush Novee’s restraining arm to one side. “But why make it formal? Why involve the Bureau? We can settle this among ourselves.”
“That’s exactly what we intend to do. The captain is empowered by the laws of space to preside over trials involving crimes and misdemeanors in deep space.”
“The captain. A trial here? On board ship? Cimon, don’t let him do it. It will be murder.”