The result worried him. They were not "in the groove." Not that the _Asgard_ was far out, but the discrepancy was measurable. He checked what he had done, then had Noguchi run the problem again, using a different programming method. The result came out the same.
Sighing, he computed the correction and started to take it to Hendrix for approval. But the Astrogator still paid no attention; he sat at the console, reading a novel from the ship's library.
Max made up his mind. He went to the console and said, "Excuse me, sir. I need to get there for a moment." Hendrix got up without answering and found another seat. Max sat down and called the power room. "Control officer speaking. I intend to increase boost at eleven o'clock. Stand by for time check."
Hendrix must have heard him, he thought, but the Astrogator gave no sign. Max fed in the correction, set the control chronometer to execute his wishes at eleven plus-or-minus nothing.
Shortly before noon Simes showed up. Max had already written his own log, based on Noguchi's log, and had signed it "M. Jones." He had hesitated, then added "C. O. o/W." Simes went to Dr. Hendrix, saluted, and said, "Ready to relieve you, sir."
Hendrix spoke his first word since eight o'clock. "He's got it."
Simes looked non-plussed, then went to Max. "Ready to relieve you." Max recited off the situation data while Simes read the log and the order book. Simes interrupted him while he was still listing minor ship's data. "Okay, I relieve you. Get out of my control room, Mister." Max got out. Dr. Hendrix had already gone down.
Noguchi had loitered at the foot of the ladder. He caught Max's eye, made a circle with thumb and finger and nodded. Max grinned at him, started to ask a question; he wanted to know if that discrepancy was a booby trap, intentionally left in by Kelly. Then he decided that it would not be fitting; he'd ask Kelly himself, or figure it from the records. "Thanks, Noggy."
That watch turned out to be typical only in the one respect that Dr. Hendrix continued to require Max to be officer of the watch himself. He did not again keep quiet but rode Max steadily, drilling him hour after hour, requiring him to take sights and set up problems continuously, as if the _Asgard_ were actually close to transition. He did not permit Max to program on paper but forced him to pretend that time was too short and that data must immediately go into the computer, be acted on at once. Max sweated, with remote controls in each fist and with Hendrix himself acting as "numbers boy." The Astrogator kept pushing him for speed, speed, and more speed--never at the sacrifice of accuracy, for any error was unforgivable. But the goal was always greater speed.
Once Max objected. "Sir, if you would let me put it right into the machine, I could cut it down a lot."
Hendrix snapped, "When you have your own control room, you can do that, if you think it wise. Now you'll do it _my_ way."
Occasionally Kelly would take over as his supervisor. The Chief Computerman was formal, using such phrases as, "May I suggest, sir--" or "I think I'd do it this way, sir." But once he broke out with, "Confound it, Max! Don't ever pull a dumb stunt like that!"
Then he started to amend his remarks. Max grinned. "Please, Chief. For a moment you made me feel at home. Thanks."
Kelly looked sheepish. "I'm tired, I guess. I could do with a smoke and some java."
While they were resting Max noted that Lundy was out of earshot and said, "Chief? You know more than I'll ever learn. Why didn't _you_ buck for astrogator? Didn't you ever get a chance?"
Kelly suddenly looked bleak. "I once did," he said stiffly. "Now I know my limitations." Max shut up, much embarrassed. Thereafter Kelly reverted to calling him Max whenever they were alone.
Max did not see Sam for more than a week after he moved up to Baker deck. Even then the encounter was chance; he ran across him outside the Purser's office. "Sam!"
"Good morning, sir!" Sam drew up in a smart salute with a broad grin on his face.
"Huh? 'Good morning, sir' my foot! How's it going, Sam?"
"Aren't you going to return my salute? In my official capacity I can report you, you know. The Captain is very, very fussy about ship's etiquette."
Max made a rude noise. "You can hold that salute until you freeze, you clown."
Sam relaxed. "Kid, I've been meaning to get up and congratulate you--but every time I find you're on watch. You must live in the Worry Hole."
"Pretty near. Look, I'll be off this evening until midnight. What do you say I stop down to see you?"
Sam shook his head. "I'll be busy."
"Busy how? You expecting a jail break? Or a riot, maybe?"
Sam answered soberly, "Kid, don't get me wrong-- but you stick to your end of the ship and I'll stick to mine. No, no, keep quiet and listen. I'm as proud as if I had invented you. But you can't fraternize in crew's quarters, not even with the Chief Master-at-Arms. Not yet."
"Who'll know? Who's to care?"
"You know blamed well that Giordano would love to tell Kuiper that you didn't know how to behave like an officer--and Old Lady Kuiper would pass it along to the Purser. Take my advice. Have I ever thrown you a curve?"
Max dropped the matter, though he badly wanted a chin with Sam. He needed to tell him that his faked record had been breached and to consult with him as to probable consequences.
Of course, he considered as he returned to his stateroom, there wasn't a thing to keep him from carrying out his orginal intention of jumping ship with Sam at Nova Terra--except that it was now no longer possible to imagine it. He was an officer.
They were approaching the middle transition; the control room went on watch-and-watch. But still Dr. Hendrix did not take the watch; Simes and Jones alternated. The Astrogator stood every watch with Max but required him to do the work and carry the responsibility himself. Max sweated it out and learned that practice problems and study of theory were nothing like having it matter when he had no way and no time to check. You had to be _right_, every time-- and there was always doubt.
When, during the last twenty-four hours, the Worry gang went on continuous watch, Max thought that Dr. Hendrix would push him aside. But he did not. Simes was pushed aside, yes, but Max took the worry seat, with Hendrix bending over him and watching everything he did, but not interfering. "Great heavens!" Max thought. "Surely he isn't going to let me make this transition? I'm not ready for it, not yet. I'll never keep up."
But data was coming too fast for further worry; he had to keep processing it, see the answers, and make decisions. It was not until twenty minutes before transition that Hendrix pushed him aside without a word and took over. Max was still recovering when they burst through into a new sky.
The last approach-and-transition before Halcyon was much like the second. There were a couple of weeks of easy watches, headed by Simes, Jones, and Kovak, with both Kelly and Hendrix getting a little rest. Max liked it, both on and off watch. On watch he continued to practice, trying to achieve the inhuman speed of Dr. Hendrix. Off watch he slept and enjoyed himself. The Bifrost Lounge no longer terrified him. He now played three-dee with Ellie there, with Chipsie on his shoulder, giving advice. Ellie had long since waved her eyes at Captain Blaine and convinced him that a pet so well behaved, so well house-broken, and in particular so well mannered (she had trained the spider puppy to say, "Good morning, Captain," whenever it saw Blaine)--in all respects so civilized should not be forced to live in a cage.
Max had even learned to swap feeble repartee with Mrs. Daigler, thinking up remarks and waiting for a chance. Ellie was threatening to teach him to dance, although he managed to stall her until resumption of watch-and-watch before transition made it impossible.