Donnelly's face flushed a still deeper red. His fists clenched and, as a muscle started to twitch warningly in his cheek, he started to get up. He stopped for a moment—frozen in silence. Then he relaxed and pushed back his chair. With a heavy sigh, he maneuvered his huge bear of a body to its feet.
He rumbled something disgustedly in his throat and then spat casually on the floor. "Williams," he thundered. "Get the hell out of here and get us some coffee."
He waited a moment until the only witness had left the room and then, with grim determination, he turned to the little psychiatrist seated at the table.
"You, Doc," he said coldly and with deliberate malice, "are a dirty, unclean little—"
Williams, when he eased his slight body through the door a few minutes later, found a suspicious scene. The little doctor, his face flushed and rage-twisted, his effortless and almost contemptuous composure shaken for once, was on his feet. Speechless, he faced the grinning space-engineer who was waving a huge and warning finger in his face.
"Easy, Doc," Donnelly roared in a friendly voice. "I might take advantage of it if you keep on giving me a good excuse. Then where would all your psychiatry and your fine overlording manners get you?"
"Joe," yelled Williams in explosive sudden fright. "Leave him alone. You're liable to have the Government Police down on us."
"Sure, Williams. The police and the newspapers too. They'd just love to have the taxpayers find out what they're doing to those kids out in deep space. What would they call it, Doc? Just an interesting psychological experiment? Is that what it's meant to be, eh, Doc?"
He chuckled suddenly as the little doctor flinched under his virulent attack. "I really hit the spot that time, didn't I, Doc? So that's what the Government's so scared and hush-hush about. They're really scared to hell and back, aren't they? I wonder what's really going on behind all this?"