Silence in the cabin and I was uncomfortable. Damn it, there had to be discipline on board, and I was in command.
Horse said quietly, "Are you a natural son-of-a-broomstick, or do you work at it?"
Rage flamed in me, and I waited until it had languished. Then I said calmly, "I'm your superior, and I've been too lenient. I'm not strong enough to fight you but I'm powerful enough to destroy you. I intend to. Look forward to a long career in the mines of Mars, fullback."
"Even you, with all your connections, couldn't rig that," Horse said lightly. "You can ground me, and hope I get court-martialed for insubordination. I've a few connections, too."
Silence, again. I went over to his scanner and checked our co-ordinates. I brought out the log and entered his mirage and his insubordination. Why quibble? Let the record speak.
Europa loomed below us, now, and Jupiter dead ahead. The oxygenator sent its draft along the back of my neck, and I shifted in my seat, remembering his question about artificial insemination. That in itself could be considered subversive. Not that I hadn't thought it, and millions of others, but he'd voiced it.
The scientists had the money, the power, the commerce. And hadn't they earned it? Hadn't they made all this quite possible?
We hadn't said a word right up to the time I put the forward blasters on for the Jupiter mooring.
The buzzer from the rear hatch was buzzing now, and I threw the switch to open it. Van Elling came in with his duryllium helmet on, beating his hands on his thighs.
Collins helped him with the helmet, and Van said, "Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold. Chief, we might lose a couple minutes on the loading. Those boys aren't what they were when we bought them."