They went to the Rocket, Kroll running, Nibley hobbling along after.
Trembling excitedly, Nibley stumbled into the Rocket. Everything had a hot mist over it. First time on a rocket in—ten years, by god. Good. Good to be aboard again. He smelled it. It smelled fine. It felt fine. Oh, it was very fine indeed. First time since that trouble he got into off the planet Venus ... he brushed that thought away. That was over and past.
He followed Kroll up through the ship to a small room in the prow.
Men ran up and down the rungs. Men who had families out there on Jupiter and were willing to go through the asteroids with a faulty radar set-up to reach those families and bring them the necessary cargo of machinery and food they needed to go on.
Out of a warm mist, old Nibley heard himself being introduced to a third man in the small room.
"Douglas, this is Nibley, our auxiliary computating machine."
"A poor time for joking, Captain."
"It's no joke," cried Nibley. "Here I am."
Douglas eyed Nibley with a very cold and exact eye. "No," he said. "No. I can't use him. I'm computant-mechanic."
"And I'm captain," said Kroll.