"I'm aware of that, Baiel."
"Then face the facts. We've blown our dorsal tubes and lost our emergency fuel. Unless we restock with fissionable material, we've no chance of getting back to Earth. You believe we can restock on that unknown planet out there, but—"
"I know we can. I've seen the spectroanalysis; it doesn't lie."
"Not in the statement of data. But—with the best of intentions—a man can lie in the generalization he draws from the data. The spectroanalysis tells us that planet out there has an atmosphere like ours. It tells us there's an abundance of fissionable material in the mineral chemistry. But suppose it can't be recovered with any of the machines we have aboard? If we land, we'll have no chance of rising again."
"It's a necessary risk."
"No, Captain Theusaman! We have almost enough energy in our functioning tubes to reach the outer fringe of the patrol area. From there we'd be close enough to beam an emergency call back to Earth. One of the patrols might pick it up in time to—"
"Might," I snapped. "I'm glad you recognize that as a possibility, Baiel."
"Even if none of us survives, our data will still be there; sooner or later an Earth ship would find the Olympus."
"You risk more than I do, Baiel."
"But our information would be saved for the scientific processors."