"I'll play the straight man," Ferguson said. "Tell us, Captain, what is the visual belt?"
"The visual belt represents the altitude from approximately three to four thousand feet above sea level," Carl told him. "Below that you have the green ground haze you see over the tops of those trees, and above it is the ten-mile-thick layer of clouds that never lift. Both are so thick, that except around the fringe areas, you can't even count your own fingers."
"Nice place to take your girl for a walk," Ferguson said, looking at Diane pointedly.
"Is anyone interested in what I think?" Spero said suddenly.
"Think away," Carl said. "Who's there to stop you?"
"That's exactly what I'd like to talk about," Spero said grimly. "It seems to me that for a fellow who left his rank back at the separation center, you've certainly been assuming a lot of authority around here."
Carl felt a warm flush rising to his cheekbones. "We've been in space," he said. "The pilot of a ship is responsible for the actions of everyone aboard."
Spero jerked a thumb at the blister port. "I've got news for you, Keating," he said. "We're not IN space anymore, so you may consider yourself relieved of your authority. For five weeks now we've watched you swagger around the ship like the hero of a grade-B space-opera, and frankly I think we're all a little sick of it!"
"Aren't you dramatizing this a little heavy," Diane said suddenly.
"Shut up!" Spero said harshly.