I eased up. But I shook him. “You’d better talk.”
He was exasperatingly silent.
“Enough!” exploded Carter. “He can explain when we get to port. Meanwhile I’ll put him where he’ll do no more damage. Gregg, lock him in the cage.”
We ignored his violent protestations. The cage––in the old days of sea-vessels on Earth, they called it the brig––was the ship’s jail. A steel-lined, windowless room located under the deck in the peak of the bow. I dragged the struggling Johnson there, with the amazed watcher looking down from the observatory window at our lunging, starlit forms.
“Shut up, Johnson! If you know what’s good for you––”
He was making a fearful commotion. Behind us, where the deck narrowed at the superstructure, half a dozen passengers were gazing in surprise.
“I’ll have you thrown out of the Service, Gregg Haljan!”
I shut him up finally. And flung him 328 down the ladder into the cage and sealed the deck trap-door upon him. I was headed back for the chart-room when from the observatory came the lookout’s voice.
“An asteroid, Haljan! Officer Blackstone wants you.”
I hurried to the turret bridge. An asteroid was in sight. We had attained nearly our maximum speed now. An asteroid was approaching, so dangerously close that our trajectory would have to be altered. I heard Blackstone’s signals ringing in the control rooms; and met Carter as he ran to the bridge with me.