"And just by way of keeping the record straight," the girl went on in a voice that began to rasp, "you know as well as I do that the files don't list any H.D.T. It's under a code name."
"Maybe," Marc replied in a noncommittal tone.
The point of light in the sky suddenly turned blue. Lee was staring at it too, now. And she knew also what the change of color meant. Mantor had started to use the new fuel!
Suddenly there was a blinding flash. Lee cried out and staggered back, covering her eyes. Marc, who had closed his eyes when the color change came, took hold of the girl's arm.
"I told you what would happen if they used the stuff," he said gently. "It's too hot for their jet chambers. It melts the walls. A lot of gas piles up in the tubes. The pressure pushes the fire back. And when it gets shoved back into the recoil chamber and you lose the protective layers of cold gas there—well, then you've got to look for your ship with an ionization gauge!
"I told you all that long ago. The trouble is, you're too idealistic, Lee. That's not the same as having ideals. I admire ideals—I might even confess to a few of my own. But you don't stop to figure out just what your ideals are—exactly what you're fighting for.
"You come to a crisis like this one and you forget about the big goal. All you see is this one problem. And by giving them yes-or-no answers—good or bad, brave or cowardly—to the problem of the moment—you may miss a simple solution to the big one.
"You've got to keep a cool head and never forget for even a moment exactly what it is you want to accomplish." His voice was gentle, and it held no rebuke.
"All right," said Lee unhappily, "you win. You needn't bother to rub in the salt. I was going to chase you through all the inquiry courts for this. Instead, you got a lucky break, so I can't do a thing. You ought to be tarred and feathered through every city of the Federation, but because a destroyer happened to stumble in here at the right time you'll end up a hero." Her voice caught in a sob.