"Thinking? If this damned thing isn't some criminal joke, there's no thinking to it, Colonel. We just go, period. I'll get—"
"Just a minute. Did you try to find us on there? What do you make of that?"
"A mistake. Some clerical mistake, that's all. What else could be made of it? On an order like this?"
Steele shifted in his swivel-seat, and a neglected spring squawked its protest. "Suppose," he began slowly, "it was a mistake, Major. But Taylor put his name to it anyway, just the way it is. Now, do you think he'd be likely to miss such an error?"
Zukow hesitated, a scowl corrugating his wide forehead. "No I don't think so, but whether he was likely to or not hasn't anything to do with it. The mistake was made—he didn't catch it, but he signed it, sent it, and it means us like all the rest of 'em, period!"
"I think he caught it, Major."
"What do you—"
"I mean just that. He caught it. And still signed it!"
"Colonel, don't be crazy! With a gun in his back—"