"Hello, Astro," replied Roger and sat down on a stool near by.
"Excuse me a minute, hot-shot," said Astro. "Gotta check the baffling around reaction tube three." The big cadet hurriedly donned a lead-lined protective suit and entered the reaction chamber. After a moment he reappeared and took off the suit. He poured a glass of water, handed it to Roger, and poured another for himself.
"Gets pretty hot down here," he said. "I don't like to use the air conditioner when I'm on hyperdrive. Sucks my power output and reduces pressure on the oxygen pumps."
Roger nodded absently at the needlessly detailed explanation. Astro looked at him sharply. "Say, what's eating you?"
"Honestly, Astro," said Roger, "I've never felt more miserable in my life."
"Don't let it get you down, Roger," said Astro. "The major said it was a mistake anyone could make."
"Yeah," flared Roger, "but have you seen the way he just—talks?"
"Talks?" asked Astro blankly.
"Yeah, talks," said Roger. "No yelling, or blasting off, or handing out demerits like they were candy. Nothing! Why he hasn't even chewed Alfie out since we left Junior. He just sits in his quarters."
Astro understood now and nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. I'd rather have him fusing his tubes than the way he is now."