F-O-B-VENUS
By NELSON S. BOND
Lancelot Biggs was perhaps the worst second
mate Captain Hanson had ever shipped, and
he was convinced of it when he ruined their
cargo. But how dumb a man is, may
sometimes be a matter of opinion.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Fantastic Adventures November 1939.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Something had gone a little haywire with my bug, and I had just repaired it and was CQ-ing on the 20 band when the door opened and Captain Hanson walked in.
Naturally, I was surprised. We were only four hours out of the Venus H-layer, and I hadn't expected any visitors; least of all the skipper. But he plunked himself down in the best chair and said, "Sparks, look at me! What do you see?"
That gave me a jolt. Even the best of them make the old dipsy-doo once in a while, but I never thought I'd live to see the day when Captain Hanson went space nutty. He'd been with the Corporation, man and boy, for more than thirty years now, and had never spent a day in dry-dock. I reached behind me cautiously and said in as soothing a voice as I could muster, "Why, I see a very nice man, Captain. Now, just you sit quiet for a minute. I've got to—"