"Yes, sir."
I rapped on the hatch, and as I entered his cabin the captain rose to greet me. The first thing I noticed was the eye patch. I had seen photographs of him taken since his return, but he had worn no patch then.
"Mr. Rogers," he said and extended his hand. "Welcome aboard."
He held his face slightly to one side, as if to give his one seeing eye as full a field of vision as possible. He noticed my preoccupation with the eye patch.
"I traveled fourteen months with a big hole here, Mr. Rogers," he said, motioning toward the patch. "I left my right eye where we are going." Then he closed his good eye and was silent for a time. I grew to accept these silences during conversations with him. "They fitted me with a false one when I returned, but advised against my wearing it in space. It's just as well. It gave me bad headaches. The patch is the same, but I don't feel a solid object lodged in my head. This is much better. Well, Mr. Rogers, what do you think of the Algonquin?"
"She's quite a ship, the little I've seen, sir."
"Yes. Mr. Rogers, I am a man disinclined to consorting with my crews. Your main duty aboard will be to convey my orders and requests to the crew. For all intensive purposes, you will appear to be in command. I suppose you have been well briefed on the purpose of this venture. If we succeed, and we shall, you will return a very rich man."
"I already am pretty well off," I said.
"I did not say pretty well off, Mr. Rogers. I said very rich. But, be that as it may, you have the look of a good officer about you. We'll get on, I'm sure."
"I hope so, sir," I said.