"You were lucky, Barnard," he sneered. "Too bad it won't last for the race."
"We'll see, Quent," said Kit coolly.
Sticoon said nothing, just watched them quietly. Quent Miles laughed and walked off the stand. Kit Barnard looked at Sticoon. "What's the matter with him?" he asked.
The Martian shrugged. "Got a hot rocket in his craw," he said quietly. "But watch your step with him, Kit. Personally, I wouldn't trust that spaceman as far as I could throw an asteroid."
Kit grinned. "Thanks—and good luck."
"I'll need it if you get that reactor of yours working," said the Martian.
He turned and left the stand without a word to Tom, Roger, or Astro. The three cadets looked at each other, feeling the tension in the air suddenly relax. Strong was busy talking to someone on the portable intercom and had missed the byplay between the three finalists.
"That Quent sure has a talent for making himself disliked," Tom commented to his unit mates.
"And all he's going to get for it is trouble," quipped Sid, who would not let any argument take away the pleasure he felt over winning the trials. "I'm going back to our ship and find out what happened to those feeders."
"I'll come with you," volunteered Astro.