He couldn't help but feel that the real problem was to get away from these high-strung, squabbling men, to escape from this hot, smelly little room.
"Captain! You must have some idea!"
Somers tried to shake his feeling of unreality. The problem, the real problem, he told himself, was how to stop the ship.
He looked around the fixed cabin and out the porthole at the unmoving stars. We are moving very rapidly, he thought, unconvinced.
Rajcik said disgustedly, "Our noble captain can't face the situation."
"Of course I can," Somers objected, feeling very light-headed and unreal. "I can pilot any course you lay down. That's my only real responsibility. Plot us a course to Mars!"
"Sure!" Rajcik said, laughing. "I can! I will! Engineer, I'm going to need plenty of fuel for this course—about ten tons! See that I get it!"
"Right you are," said Watkins. "Captain, I'd like to put in a requisition for ten tons of fuel."
"Requisition granted," Somers said. "All right, gentlemen, responsibility is inevitably circular. Let's get a grip on ourselves. Mr. Rajcik, suppose you radio Mars."
When contact had been established, Somers took the microphone and stated their situation. The company official at the other end seemed to have trouble grasping it.