or his needler. I looked at him through
narrowed eyes. He decided to rely on his mouth, as usual. He licked his
lips. "All right, I'm under arrest," he said. "But as Medical Officer of
this vessel it's my duty to remind you that you can't live without a
certain minimum of fresh organic food. We've got to start back now." He
was pale, but determined. He couldn't bear the thought of getting bald
and toothless from dietary deficiency. The girls would never give him
another look.

"We're going on, Kramer," I said. "As long as we have a man aboard still
able to move. Teeth or no teeth."

"Deficiency disease is no joke, Captain," Kramer said. "You can get all
the symptoms of leprosy, cancer and syphilis just by skipping a few
necessary elements in your diet. And we're missing most of them."

"Giving me your opinions is one thing, Kramer," I said. "Mutiny is
another."

Clay stood beside the main screen, wide-eyed. I couldn't send Kramer
down under his guard. "Let's go, Kramer," I said. "I'm locking you up
myself."

We rode down in the lift. The men who had been with Kramer stood
awkwardly, silent as we stepped out into the passage. I spotted two
chronic trouble-makers among them. I thought I might as well call them
now as later. "Williams and Nagle," I said, "this officer is under
arrest. Escort him to his quarters and lock him in." As they stepped
forward hesitantly, Kramer said, "Keep your filthy hooks off me." He
started down the passage.

* * * * *

If I could get Kramer put away before anybody else started trouble, I
might be able to bluff it through. I followed him and his two sheepish
guards down past the power section, and the mess. I hoped there would be
no crowd there to see their hero Kramer under guard.

I was out of luck. Apparently word had gone out of Kramer's arrest, and
the corridor was clogged with men. They stood unmoving as we approached.
Kramer stopped.

"Clear this passage, you men," I said.

Slowly they began to move back, giving ground reluctantly.

Suddenly Kramer shouted. "That's right, you whiners and complainers,
clear the way so the Captain can take me back to the missile deck and
shoot me. You just want to talk about home; you haven't got the guts to
do anything about it."

The moving mass halted, milled. Someone shouted, "Who's he think he is,
anyway."

Kramer whirled toward me. "He thinks he's the man who's going to let you
all rot alive, to save