“Feth has cut you in to the main beam, and no piloting will be needed for nearly three days,” he said. “You looked as though you were going back to your controls.”
“I wanted to talk to Feth again. I’ve been thinking over the matter of armor and apparatus withstanding Planet Three’s conditions, and it seems to me something could be done.” He went on to give a censored version of his recent thoughts to his employer.
“I don’t know,” the latter said when he had finished. “You’ll have to talk to Feth, as you planned. We’ve tried it, since he joined us, and the failures occurred just as he said in the matter of television. He was not with us on the original expedition, which did no investigating except as I originally told you — it was strictly a pleasure cruise, and the only reason there were so many torpedoes available was that the owner of the ship preferred to do his sightseeing in comfort — he’d send out a dozen at once, when we entered a planetary system, and keep the Karella in space until he found something he wanted to see or do personally.”
“I’ve never met him, have I?”
“No — he died long ago. He was pretty old when we hit this place. I inherited the ship and got into this trading business.”
“When did Feth join you?”
“A year or two after I got started — he’s the oldest in the crew in point of service. He can tell you all about the engineering troubles, you see, and I certainly can’t. You’d better see him, if he feels like talking.” Without explaining this last remark, Drai disappeared down the corridor. Ken did not wonder at the words — he had already come to regard Feth as a taciturn personality.
The mechanic did not appear to be busy. He was still draped in the rack in front of the torpedo controls, and seemed to be thinking. He rose as Ken entered the room, but said nothing, merely giving the equivalent of a nod of greeting. Not noticing anything unusual in his manner, Ken began immediately to spill forth his ideas. He was allowed to finish without interruption.
“Your points all sound good,” the mechanic admitted when he had heard them, “and I certainly can’t bring any theory against them. I can merely point out that the tubes do break. If you want to send down a suit of armor full of thermometers and pressure gauges, that’s all right with me, but I trust you’ll pardon a pessimistic attitude. I used up a lot of good TV equipment in that atmosphere.”
“Well, I admit your superior practical knowledge,” replied Ken, “but I do think it’s worth trying.”