"I see; now we're making this a part of initial training?"
"Right. And since Base One is staffed with experienced Guardians, we needed a newcomer to handle this job; you're it."
Hagen smiled. "When do I start?" he asked.
"Normally we'd start you after your second time out," said Charlemagne. "But since you've been told of your assignment, I see no reason why you should sit around day after day waiting for it to arrive. If you think you can make a long jaunt from star to star without getting the screaming meemies from space loneliness, you can start tomorrow."
"I think I can."
"Larrimer thinks you can lick it," smiled Charlemagne; "he said you ran the swamper as though you'd been with the mop-up squad for years."
"I hardly think so."
"You're a well-liked rookie," said the captain. "You'll make out. And," he added ruefully, "we'll be looking for another rookie in not too long a time. We wouldn't care to keep a potentially good man running errands too long. Just long enough," he said seriously, "so that he knows what the score is."
Steve found this was tedious work. Furnished with an itinerary, Steve spent the first day on Planet III of the star nearest to Base One, prowling in and out among the planetary installations of the Interstellar Company, finding nothing worth reporting. Pilots and engineroom mechanics knew that their lives depended upon the proper maintenance of their equipment, and they behaved accordingly.