ck-browed,
black-eyed man of thirty--was third in rank of the scientific group.

"I'm telling you, Jarve, you can't have it both ways," Karns declared.
"Captain Sawtelle is old-school Navy brass. He goes strictly by the
book. So you've got to draw a razor-sharp line; exactly where the
Advisory Board's directive puts it. And next time he sticks his ugly
puss across that line, kick his face in. You've been Caspar Milquetoast
Two ever since we left Base."

"That's the way it looks to you?" Hilton's right hand became a fist.
"The man has age, experience and ability. I've been trying to meet him
on a ground of courtesy and decency."

"Exactly. And he doesn't recognize the existence of either. And, since
the Board rammed you down his throat instead of giving him old Jeffers,
you needn't expect him to."

"You may be right, Bill. What do you think, Dr. Cummings?"

The girl said: "Bill's right. Also, your constant appeasement isn't
doing the morale of the whole scientific group a bit of good."

"Well, I haven't enjoyed it, either. So next time I'll pin his ears
back. Anything else?"

"Yes, Dr. Hilton, I have a squawk of my own. I know I was rammed down
your throat, but just when are you going to let me do some work?"

"None of us has much of anything to do yet, and won't have until we
light somewhere. You're off base a country mile."

"I'm not off base. You _did_ want Eggleston, not me."

"Sure I did. I've worked with him and know what he can do. But I'm not
holding a grudge about it."

"No? Why, then, are you on first-name terms with everyone in the
scientific group except me? Supposedly your first assistant?"

"That's easy!" Hilton snapped. "Because you've been carrying chips on
both shoulders ever since you came aboard ... or at least I thought you
were." Hilton grinned suddenly and held out his hand. "Sorry,
Sandy--I'll start all over again."

"I'm sorry too, Chief." They shook hands warmly. "I _was_ pretty stiff,
I guess, but I'll be good."

"You'll go to work right now, too. As semantician. Dig out that
directive and tear it down. Draw that line Bill talked about."

"Can do, boss." She swung to her feet and walked out of the room, her
every movement one of lithe and easy grace.

Karns followed her with his eyes. "Funny. A trained-dancer Ph.D. And a
Miss America type, like all the other women aboard this spacer. I wonder
if she'll make out."

"So do I. I still wish they'd given me Eggy. I've never seen