A liar to the last. Joe smothered a temptation to crash his steel fist into that face. He unfastened the straps and dumped the creature to the floor. Swiftly, he cut out the super-cee drive. The controls worked perfectly, as he had known they would. The creatures had been lying from the first.
He turned the ship around with the reaction motors, checked his position. He thought the ship had moved in a straight line since takeoff. He reversed the heading a hundred and eighty degrees; That would put them close. Later, he could correct for small errors. He threw in the super-cee again and locked it.
He started back to the rear of the ship. The creature on the floor stirred, but Joe knew there was no fight left in it. The acid vapor still poured through the ship, and there was no way to get it out now. They'd have to take it until they got back to Earth.
He returned to the rear of the ship. The two armored figures were still bending over the form of Barnes.
"He died," said Litchfield. "We got the oxygen generator going, but it ts too slow building up pressure. He was almost gone the last time he spoke to us."
Red tape, Joe thought. Red tape would have saved young Barnes. If they had been careful enough to check the incoming ships and passengers adequately, Barnes would be alive and home with Mary.
O'Conners was right, he thought dully. You had to be accurate. You couldn't afford a slip. This was what happened when you slipped.
And to be absolutely sure, you had to be a dealer in red tape.
Joe turned away from the dead technician. From now on his place would be known throughout the systems as the house of red tape. He'd make O'Conners' office look like the sloppiest port of entry anywhere. Joe Williams would be the king of red tape.
It was well past sun-up when they brought the ship back over the field. Navigational corrections on the Nerane instruments had taken longer than they had thought.