Cap Hanson said, "W-what?"
And I croaked, "J-just ... like ... that ... Lance?"
Biggs' tone wobbled as if he were nodding his head.
"Sure. Just like that. Make the necessary stud adjustments, fire the rockets designated in my alternative plot-chart, and shift trajectory. That's all! And, oh, yes—you might send a couple of men outside, Skipper, with disrupters. Have them clear the hull of that caked fuel oil so it will be a little cooler in here.
"Honey—" He was talking to Diane now—"I'll meet you up there in a few minutes. Wait for me!"
Major Gilchrist's eyes looked like two poached eggs. As the full meaning of Biggs' words dawned upon him, he began roaring. But angrily. And loudly.
"A trick! A dirty, low, mean, contemptible trick by a renegade officer! Mr. Biggs! Mr. Biggs, sir, I am placing you under arrest again! Remain in your quarters, sir, or—"
But Todd had already sprung to his task, I had given the orders to Garrity's crew, and Cap Hanson handled this new threat. Again he hunched over Gilchrist's struggling-to-rise form, and his voice was a whiplash of scorn.
"I wouldn't, if I was you, Major!" he warned grimly. "You seem to've forgot that a minute ago forty-odd men aboard the Saturn heard you beggin' Lance Biggs to save your scrawny hide. One more crack outa you between now an' the day we hit Earth, an' this whole affair will be reported to the Company, so help me Hannah!"
"And in case you think we can't prove it," I assured him sweetly, "it might interest you to know that I plugged in the audio-recorder five minutes ago. We've got a nice little transcription of everything you've said since you entered the turret. Would you like to hear that played at the trial?"