It was after chow that he did it. He walked over and turned off the television. All kinds of emotions stood on the faces of the others. Rage was the one on the face of a hulking man named Regan.
"It was right at the best place!" growled the big spaceman. "Turn it on!"
Matt placed himself directly before the screen. "Turn it on yourself!" he baited, with a twisted smile he meant to be lightly humorous.
Regan shoved from the wall and floated slowly toward him.
"There's a reason for watching this stuff," one of the crewmen put in, "I tell you we've got to watch it! Turn it back on, son."
Matt laughed. "What a stinker. The Space Service! Glamour! Commentators and books and slogans and kids and girls all talk about it like a hero carnival but it stinks, it's a bunch of guys going nuts on the other side of nowhere and—"
Regan hit him. He flew backward, seeing stars, rolling in the air. DiCredico's voice gonged from the captain's cabin.
"Knock it off! Regan, turn the set on, get back to the entertainment. Bailey, want to see you in here."
It all went out of Bailey and he felt foolish and frightened. He swung into the cabin and floated at attention.