Evans got up and began to pace the floor. "I guess I'm following a hunch."
"But would you make us lose the Blue Ribbon for a mere hunch? Don't you trust your own objective judgment?"
Sweating heavily, the Captain tried to stub out his cigar, but his hands were moist and his fingers trembled.
"I don't know!" he shouted. Then he went on, his voice low and tired. "You may be right. Burl. You may be right. We may not have hit the Ripples. The Ripples may not even exist, although some very competent spacemen and some very brilliant physicists are convinced they do. But how can I judge? How can I be sure?"
Jasperson leaned forward, intent as a cat on a bird.
"None of the other Piles have started to heat? There's nothing else to make you suspicious?"
"Nothing except the space record tape, and that makes no sense."
"Exactly. Then why don't you look at this situation as a hardheaded spaceman should, and order full speed ahead?"
"Burl, there are fifteen hundred lives dependent on me. How can I take such a chance?"
"It wouldn't be a chance. And if by the one unlucky chance in ten million there should be trouble, you have ample lifeboat space for everyone. Isn't it worth the gamble?"