Don looked up suddenly. Somewhere he had heard almost those same words... the memory evaded him.
"But never mind," Phipps went on. "I was just trying to get a younger, fresher viewpoint. You might think about it. Those laboratory laddies won't, that's sure. These physicists-they produce wonders but they never know what other wonders their wonders will beget." He paused and added, "We are resetting the clock, but we don't know what time it will be."
When he added nothing more Don decided with relief that the interview was over and started to get up. "No, no, don't go," Phipps put in. "I had another matter on my mind. You've been getting ready to leave, haven't you?"
Don stuttered and stammered. "What gave you that idea?"
"I'm right. Some morning we would wake up and find your bed empty. Then I'd be put to a lot of trouble when effort can't be spared to try to find you and bring you back."
Don relaxed. "Conrad snitched to you," he said bitterly.
"Conrad? No. I doubt if the good doctor ever notices anything larger than an electron. No, credit me with some sense. My business is people. True, I did badly with you when you first arrived-but I still plead that I was bone weary. Tiredness is a mild insanity. The point is: you're leaving and I can't stop you. I know dragons well enough to know that Sir Isaac wouldn't let me if you wanted to go. You're `his' confounded 'egg'! But I can't let you go; the reasons are just as compelling as before. So-rather than let you go, I'd have to try to kill you."
Don leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his feet. "Do you think you could?" he said very softly.
Phipps grinned. "No, I don't. That's why I've had to think up another scheme. You know that we are making up the ship's crew. How would you like to go along?"
XVIII Little David
Don let his mouth drop open and left it that way. To his credit, while he had thought about it, he had never given it the slightest serious consideration; he was not conceited enough to think that he would be allowed to hitch a ride, just to suit his personal wishes, on this trip.
Phipps went on, "Frankly, I'm doing it to get rid of you, to put you on ice, safe from the Federation's inquisitors, until it no longer matters. But I think I can justify it. We want to train as many as the Little David can carry on this trip as cadres for more ships. But my choice is limited-most of our group here are too old, or they are near-sighted, narrow-chested -young geniuses suitable only for laboratories. You are young, you are healthy, your reflexes are fast-I know! -and you are space-wise from babyhood. True, you are not a qualified shiphandler, but that won't matter too much; these ships will be new to everyone. Mr. Harvey, how would you like to go to Mars and return as `Captain Harvey,' master of your own ship-a ship strong enough to strike at these Federation vermin orbiting around Venus?
"Or executive officer, at least," Phipps qualified, reflecting that in a two-man ship Don could hardly be less.
Like it? He'd love it! Don's tongue got twisted trying to accept too quickly. Then almost at once he was struck by a cold thought; Phipps saw from his expression that something was wrong. "What's the matter?" Phipps said sharply. "Are you afraid?"
"Afraid?" Don looked annoyed. "Of course I'll be afraid! I've been afraid so many times that I am no longer scared to be afraid again. That's not the trouble."
"What is it, then? Speak up!"
"It's just this-I'm still on active duty. I can't go gallivanting off a hundred million miles or so. Properly speaking, it would be desertion. Why, when they laid hands on me, they'd probably hang me first and ask questions afterwards."
Phipps relaxed. "Oh. Perhaps that can be managed. You let me worry about it."
It could be managed. It was only three days later that Don received new orders, written this time, and delivered by devious means that he could only guess at. They read:
To: Harvey, Donald J., Sergeant-Specialist 1/c Via: Channels
1. You are assigned to special temporary duty of indefinite duration.
2. You will travel as necessary to carry out this duty.
3. This assignment is deemed in the best interests of the Republic. When, in your opinion, your duties are completed, you will report to the nearest competent authority and request transportation to enable you to report in person to the Chief of Staff.
4. For the duration of this duty you are brevetted to the rank of sublieutenant.
J. S. Busby, Wing Colonel (brevet)
For the Commanding General
First Endorsement:
1. Delivered (via courier)
Henry Marsten, Captain (brevet) Commanding 16th Gondola Combat Team
Clipped to the orders was a scrawled note which read:
P.S. Dear "Lieutenant,"
These are the silliest orders I have ever had to endorse.
What the devil have you been up to? Did you marry one of the dragons? Or did you catch a Big Brass with his finger off his number? Anyway, have fun-and good huntingl
Marsten
Don tucked the orders and the note into his pocket. Every now and then he would reach in and touch them.
The days trickled away; the dotted line got ever closer to Mars: and the whole group got more and more jumpy. Another date was posted on the mess hall wall, a date by which the Little David must be ready-if they were to arrive in time.
The calendar marked that deadline the day the ship was finally manned. At raise-ship-minus-twenty-minutes Don was still in Sir Isaac's study, his baggage (such as it was) already aboard. Saying goodbye to Sir Isaac, he discovered, was rather more difficult than he had expected it to be. His head was not cluttered with ideas about "father images" and the like; he was simply aware that this dragon was all the family he had, much more so than that remote pair on the planet where he was headed.
He was almost relieved when a glance at his watch told him that he was late. "Got to run," he said. "Nineteen minutes."
"Yes, my dear Donald. Your short-lived race must always live in frantic haste."
"Well-g'bye."
"Farewell, Mist on the Waters."
He stopped outside Sir Isaac's study to blow his nose and pull himself together. Isobel stepped out from behind a massive pillar. "Don-I wanted to say goodbye to you."
"Huh? Sure, sure-but aren't you coming out to see `raise ship'?"
"No."
"Well, as you like, but I've got to hurry, Grandma."
"I told you to stop calling me 'Grandma'!"
"So you fibbed about your age. So you're stuck with it-Grandma."
"Don, you stubborn beast! Don-you come back. You understand me?"
"Why, sure! We'll be back in jig time."
"See that you do! You're not bright enough to take care of yourself. Well-Open sky!" She grabbed him by both ears and kissed him quickly, then ran away.
Don stared after her, rubbing his mouth. Girls, he reflected, were much odder than dragons. Probably another race entirely. He hurried on down to the take-off point. The entire colony seemed to be there and he was the last of the crew to arrive, winning thereby a dirty look from Captain Rhodes, skipper of the Little David. Rhodes, once of Interplanet and now of the Middle Guard, had appeared three days ago; he had not been inclined to talk and had spent the whole time with Conrad. Don touched the pocket and wondered if Rhodes carried orders that read as oddly as his.
The Little David had been dragged up on shore, where she rested in skids. No catapult would be needed for her take-off, nor was any available: the three shuttle catapults on Venus were all in the hands of the Federation forces. The ship had been concealed by a screen of boughs; these were now cut back, giving her open sky, room to lift.