of the Navy Code was lying on the desk.
Chase had obviously been reading his bible.

"You are three minutes late, Marsden," Chase said. "Your orders direct
you to report at 0900. Do you have any explanation?"

"No, sir," I said.

"Don't let it happen again. On this ship we are prompt."

"Aye, sir," I muttered.

He smiled, a thin quirk of thin lips. "Now let me outline your duties,
Marsden. You are posted to my ship as Executive Officer. An Executive
Officer is the Captain's right hand."

"So I have heard," I said drily.

"Belay that, Mr. Marsden. I do not appreciate humor during duty hours."

You wouldn't, I thought.

"As I was saying, Marsden, Executive Officer, you will be responsible
for--" He went on and on, covering the Code--chapter, book and verse on
the duties of an Executive Officer. It made no difference that I had
been Exec under Andy Royce, the skipper of the "Clotho," the ship with
the biggest confirmed kill in the entire Fleet Scouting Force. I was
still a new Exec, and the book said I must be briefed on my duties. So
"briefed" I was--for a solid hour.

Feeling angry and tired, I finally managed to get away from Rule Book
Charley and find my quarters which I shared with the Engineer. I knew
him casually, a glum reservist named Allyn. I had wondered why he always
seemed to have a chip on his shoulder. Now I knew.

He was lying in his shock-couch as I came in. "Welcome, sucker," he
greeted me. "Glad to have you aboard."

"The feeling's not mutual," I snapped.

"What's the matter? Has the Lieutenant Commander been rolling you out on
the red carpet?"

"You could call it that," I said. "I've just been told the duties of an
Exec. Funny--no?"

He shook his head. "Not funny. I feel for you. He told me how to be an
engineer six months ago." Allyn's thin face looked glummer than usual.

"Did I ever tell you about our skip--captain?" Allyn went on. "Or do I
have to tell you? I see you're wearing an Academy ring."

"You can't tell me much I haven't already heard," I said coldly. I don't
like wardroom gossips as a matter of policy. A few disgruntled men on a
ship can shoot morale to hell, and on a ship this size the Exec is the
morale officer. But I was torn between two desires. I wanted Allyn to go
on, but I didn't want to hear what Allyn had to say. I was like the
proverbial hungry mule standing halfway between two haystacks of equal
size and attractiveness. And like the mule I would stand there