Tom looked at Willie, he had almost forgotten Willie was there because he was so quiet. Willie was trying to look bright and happy, but even through the happy haze, Tom could see he looked tired and depressed. The wine hadn't done a thing for him, and his dinner was only half eaten.
Bart had looked down at his plate, frowning, at Willie's question. He knocked out the ashes of his pipe and tossed it on the table. He looked Willie squarely in the eye. "I was going to save it until we got back, but since you asked, I'll give it to you straight. Willie, I'm sending you back for a check-up when we get in. You can't seem to do a darn thing anymore, without having somebody doublecheck it. Tom and I have had to navigate the ship most of this trip, when you were supposed to do it. There's no place out here for a man that can't do his job. It puts too much on the others. I think you need a long rest or something."
Willie sat there, his face white, blinking his eyes rapidly. Then he lurched to the door, his chair spinning behind him. Pudge got up and went to the galley.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Tom asked Bart. "Why didn't you kid him along and give it to him easy when we got back. It would have been easier on his feelings."
"That's not my way," Bart said. "He asked me and I gave it to him straight. He's no good out here anymore. In fact, he's dangerous. If something should come up that needs quick action, we'd all be wiped out by the time he called me."
"Okay," Tom said. "It was honest, and it was truthful. But it sure as hell hurt him. I'm going to see him and try to ease it over."
"You'll be a good first mate, Tom," Bart said. "But don't baby the crew too much. They've either got it or they haven't."
Tom went down the narrow passageway to Willie's cabin and knocked on the door. When he didn't get an answer, he opened the door. Willie was lying on his bunk with his face to the wall. He didn't move as Tom sat in the chair.
"Hey, Willie," Tom said. "You got company. I come in to shoot the breeze with you."
Willie turned over reluctantly. "I'm sorry, Tom. I hate Bart's guts. He's always so goddam right." Willie clasped his hands behind his head on the pillow, and stared at the ceiling. "He'll wash me out of this job and then what will I do? I've failed at everything else I've tried to do. It's the people, Tom. I can't do anything in front of people. What am I going to do when they ground me? I can't stand the crowds of people on Earth." He rolled over against the wall.