"I took Bramwell over the ship," he said. "Since he's going to live and work in it, he thought he ought to see it."
"That's reasonable," admitted McCauley.
Randy held up his hand and ticked off on his fingers.
"Item. He drinks a glass of orange juice, a large one, every night before retiring. A supply of orange juice must be provided."
"All right," said McCauley. "Anything else?"
"Item," said Randy. "He is extremely annoyed by noise. He must have a working area that is lined with soundproof material and has a soundproof door so he can have absolute quiet."
McCauley grunted.
"If you can think of anything quieter than space with one's rockets off.... But okay. What else?"
"Item. He suspects he's allergic to the vegetation in the air-freshening system," said Randy. "I promised it would be checked."
"We'll make impressive allergy tests for him," said McCauley. "If that's all...."