"My gosh, Willie," Tom said, "the only thing I know about navigation is what you've taught me this trip. Your figures are right."
"I just wanted to make sure I'm right," Willie said. "I don't like to navigate close in." He pushed the papers back on the desk. "I guess I'd better call the big shot and let him take over." He pressed the button that rang the buzzer in the Captain's tiny cabin.
"Might as well let Pudge in on it too," Tom said, "or the food will be lousy for days."
"Yeah," Willie said, and buzzed the galley.
Captain Bart strode into the cabin, his barrel chest bare and hairy above the shorts he had been napping in. He went straight to the porthole and stood with his fists on his hips, appraising the sun. Then he caught sight of the blue-green ball on the scope.
"Earth type planet! Nice going, Willie," he shouted, and clapped Willie on the back.
Willie flinched slightly, then moved over to the chart desk, a frown making vertical creases in his forehead.
Bart turned to Tom without noticing. "Ten thousand credits, Tom. I knew we'd do it. Even in this forty year old tub. Willie, are we going to pass it close?"
"Two more minutes," Willie murmured, busy with the charts on the desk. "You'd better check my course, though."
"O.K.," Bart said. "Let her go as she's headed."