Who in hell would run Personnel Incorporated if he failed to return? He nodded his head thoughtfully, faintly surprised that he hadn't thought of it before.
Who would run the company? He was the only one who knew how. He was the company. He had practically raised it all by himself to where it was now.
He took his thumb off the key.
And what would happen to the company's reputation if he failed to come back? That meant that their slogan no longer held—that they hadn't found the man for the job. And he hadn't kidded about the mottos. They had been capable of finding a man to do any job—even this one. Not just to go out on a job. To do a job.
He had a sudden vision of Maxwell shouting gleefully: "I told you so! Personnel can't supply the man!"
Five minutes later he hardly remembered his desire to crash the ship. He thought fleetingly of the movies showing the crack-up of the first ship. Something pretty much the same as had happened to him must have happened to the pilot on the first flight.
He shuddered and kicked his way over to the first-aid kit.
The next day the ship began the long smooth curve that would carry it around the moon and on the last leg of the journey. Whiteford went to the panel board and pressed the key releasing the steel porthole caps. He pressed the key again and when they still didn't move realized they were stuck. It wouldn't be hard to find the trouble but....
It wasn't worth the effort. He didn't give a damn whether he saw the moon or not.