There was no small talk between himself and the checker. Mr. Murtaugh had not elected to take the schooling necessary to qualify for other than a small desk job. He had no space experience. Unless and until he did, there would be an invisible, but nonetheless real barrier between himself and any spaceman. It was not that St. Simon looked down on the man, exactly; it was simply that Murtaugh had not proved himself, and, therefore, there was no way of knowing whether he could be trusted or not. And since trust is a positive quality, lack of it can only mean mistrust.
Murtaugh handed Captain St. Simon an envelope. "That's it, captain. Thank you."
St. Simon opened the envelope, took out his check—and a blue ticket.
Kerry Brand broke into a guffaw.
When the phone on his desk rang, Georges Alhamid scooped it up and identified himself.
"This is Larry, George," said the governor's voice. "How are things so far?"
"So far, so good," Alhamid said. "For the past week, Mr. Peter Danley has been working his head off, under the tutelage of two of the toughest, smartest anchor men in the business. But you should have seen the looks on their faces when I told them they were going to have an Earthman for a pupil."
The governor laughed. "I'll bet! How's he coming along?"
"He's learning. How are you doing with your pet?"