"Isn't it a curious coincidence, Mister Mate, that this leak should bring us down over the equator—just where you wanted to dig all along?" Captain McCausland's voice was biting.
"Yes, sir."
"Curious coincidence, too, wasn't it, that when those shutters were being put on the workmen's radiophones went out of order? Listen here, Mr. Mate, there have been too damned many coincidences around here to suit me. A few more and you're going to find yourself working in the engine room. That's all. Get out of here and get the digging lock rigged."
Adam saluted mechanically and left the cabin. He knew with sickening precision what the captain meant. Demotion to the engine room would mark him forever in the space service as an inefficient mate. He could never hope to obtain a command of his own, and throughout the rest of his life, wherever he went the record of it would follow him. Even now, the unfavorable report McCausland was sure to turn in when they returned to Earth would block his way to any higher command, any other rating. He felt sick at heart as he joined the group at the main lock, helmet in hand, as they were about to launch themselves into the green ocean below—six men, armed with the bomb-spears Jake Burchall had provided.
He was surprised to note that Paulette deVries was standing waiting with the others, helmet in hand and her face deathly pale.
"Paulette," he begged, "do you really think you should go? Remember what happened last time. Does McCausland—"
"He knows I'm going."
"All right. But keep with the men please. For my peace of mind if not for your own sake. All ready? Close lock!"
The green waters rose about them in the lock and they swung off. Adam's voice came clearly through the earphones of the party.
"Be careful everyone! This is a regular jungle of those chain-weeds."