"Starboard declension. You never seen anything as fast as that there gallopin' hole. Hey, here comes the old Slipstream! Whee! Nice job, Skipper!"
I saw it then. It came blasting back toward us like a ray from a needle-gun. I couldn't help admiring the good sportsmanship in Cap Hanson which, even though he had seen his competitor's ship break free of the bondage that might have cost it the race, caused him to commend the navigator's space-skill.
Now the Skipper turned to Lancelot Biggs, and there was a battle-light in his eyes. "Mr. Biggs, this gives us a fightin' chance to win the race! The Slipstream will be a day makin' up for this lost time. I'll relieve you of your command now—"
But there was a strange, thoughtful look in Biggs' eyes. He said, slowly, "Did you say starboard, Skipper?"
"Eh? What's that? Yes, I said starboard. Well—did you hear me, Mr. Biggs? I've decided not to be hard on you. I'll relieve you of your command now ... take the Saturn on into port...."
And Lancelot Biggs said, "No!"
Before Cap Hanson had stopped gasping—I decided afterward it was a gasp, though at first I thought it was a symptom of apoplexy—Biggs stepped to the ship's intercommunicating system and buzzed the bridge. To Todd he snapped, "Mr. Todd, plot new co-ordinates to intersect with the vacuole as soon as possible!"
Then Todd gasped and I gasped and Diane gasped and the Skipper was still gasping, and Lancelot Biggs turned to face us, faintly pale, breathing a little hard, but with a look of curious determination on his face.
"I know," he said, "you all think I'm crazy. Well, maybe I am. But I'm not going to surrender my command, and I'm going to see this race through in the way that seems most fitting to me—"