He slipped the capsule into his pocket where he could get at it when he needed it, and went on up the passageway.
"Oh, there you are," said Burford. "We were wondering where you'd got to."
Shoemaker glared at him. "Okay, go ahead, ask me if I was digging for a microspectrograph mine."
Burford looked shocked. "Why, Jim, you know I wouldn't say a nasty thing like that." He took Shoemaker's arm. "Come on up to the galley. We're having a pow-wow."
Oh-oh, thought Shoemaker. This looks like it. He put his hand in his pocket and folded his handkerchief over the capsule.
Davies and Hale stared at him solemnly as he came through the door with Burford behind him. He looked back at them, poker-faced, and sat down.
Davies cleared his throat. "Er-um. Jim, we've been worried about you lately. You don't act like you're feeling too chipper."
"That's right," said Shoemaker, looking doleful. "I've been thinking about my poor old mother."
Burford snorted. "Your poor old mother died fifty years ago."
"She did," said Shoemaker, taking out his handkerchief, "and she died with one great wish unfulfilled."