"They make me sick," said Morrie in his usual disagreeable manner.
"We don't even have extra paper and pencil," she went on. "All writing materials are under lock and key, being conserved for taking notes when we reach Mars."
Suddenly Morrie smiled. "You know, I'm a little stupid," he said. "I brought along a deck of cards."
"You what?" Gail exclaimed.
And I gave him a look of surprise. Regulations had forbidden us to bring anything aboard—not even a toothbrush—because all personal items, excepting the one uniform we wore at the time, had already been stored on the Jehad. Spartan had announced, with his usual correctness, that every ounce we carried would require extra fuel to lift us off the earth.
Morrie got up and shuffled over to his locker at the end of the cabin. He opened it, unzipped the pocket of his spacesuit hanging there, and brought out a brand-new pack of cards.
"Morrie! You darling!" said Gail.
"Forgot I had 'em," Morrie said, flushing with pleasure at Gail's words. "I figured things were apt to get boring up here and Doc had mentioned we'd have very little to do. So I stuck them in my pocket when I came down to the pad and, when Doc wasn't looking, put them in the pocket of my spacesuit."
I glanced nervously toward the front of the ship. Spartan probably was in his cabin, or making sure Warner Joel was awake in the control room. Axel was directly above us, snoring gently in his sleeping bag.
"Anyone for gin rummy?" I asked.