Again he found himself shoved into the worry seat for the last part of the approach. This time Dr. Hendrix did not displace him until less than ten minutes before burst through.
On the easy drop down to Halcyon Ellie's determination won out. Max learned to dance. He found that he liked it. He had good rhythm, did not forget her instructions, and Ellie was a fragrant, pleasant armful. "I've done all I can," she announced at last. "You're the best dancer with two left feet I've ever met." She required him to dance with Rebecca Weberbauer and with Mrs. Daigler. Mrs. Daigler wasn't so bad after all, as long as she kept her mouth shut--and Rebecca was cute. He began to look forward to the fleshpots of Halcyon, that being Ellie's stated reason for instructing him; he was to be conscripted as her escort.
Only one thing marred the final leg; Sam was in trouble. Max did not find out about it until after the trouble broke. He got up early to go on watch and found Sam cleaning decks in the silent passages of passenger quarters. He was in dungarees and wearing no shield. "Sam!"
Sam looked up. "Oh. Hi, kid. Keep your voice down, you'll wake people."
"But Sam, what in Ned are you doing?"
"Me? I seem to be manicuring this deck."
"But why?"
Sam leaned on his broom. "Well, kid, it's like this. The Captain and I had a difference of opinion. He won."
"You've been busted?"
"Your intuition is dazzling."
"What happened?"
"Max, the less you know about it the better. Don't fret. _Sic transit gloria mundi_--Tuesday is usually worse."
"But-- See here, I've got to grab chow and go on watch. I'll look you up later."
"Don't."
Max got the story from Noguchi. Sam, it appeared, had set up a casino in an empty storeroom. He might have gotten away with it indefinitely had it remained a cards-and-dice set up, with a rake off for the house-- the "house" being the Chief Master-at-Arms. But Sam had added a roulette wheel and that had been his downfall; Giordano had come to suspect that the wheel had less of the element of chance than was customary in better-run gambling halls--and had voiced his suspicion to Chief Clerk Kuiper. From there events took an inevitable course.
"When did he put in this wheel?"
"Right after we raised from Garson's Planet." Max thought uncomfortably of the "tea cozies" he had helped Sam bring aboard there. Noguchi went on, "Uh, didn't you know, sir? I thought you and him were pretty close before--you know, before you moved up decks."
Max avoided an answer and dug into the log. He found it under the previous day, added by Bennett to Simes' log. Sam was restricted to the ship for the rest of the trip, final disciplinary action postponed until return to Terra.
That last seemed to mean that Captain Blaine intended to give Sam a chance to show good behavior before making his recommendation to the guilds--the Captain was a sweet old guy, he certainly was. But "restricted"? Then Sam would never get his chance to run away from whatever it was he was running away from. He located Sam as soon as he was off watch, digging him out of his bunkroom and taking him out into the corridor.
Sam looked at him sourly. "I thought I told you not to look me up?"
"Never mind! Sam, I'm worried about you. This 'restricted' angle ... it means you won't have a chance to--"
"_Shut up!_" It was a whisper but Max shut up. "Now look here," Sam went on, "Forget it. I got my stake and that's the important point."
"But ..."
"Do you think they can seal this ship tight enough to keep me in when I decide to leave? Now stay away from me. You're teacher's pet and I want to keep it that way. I don't want you lectured about bad companions, meaning me."
"But I want to help, Sam. I ..."
"Will you kindly get up above 'C' deck where you belong?"
He did not see Sam again that leg; presently he stopped worrying about it. Hendrix required him to compute the planetary approach--child's play compared with a transition--then placed Max at the connwhen they grounded. This was a titulary responsibility since it was precomputed and done on radar-automatic. Max sat with the controls under his hands, ready to override the autopilot--and Hendrix stood behind him, ready to override him--but there was no need; the _Asgard_ came down by the plotted curve as easy as descending stairs. The thrust beams bit in and Max reported, "Grounded, sir, on schedule."
"Secure."
Max spoke into the ship's announcers. "Secure power room. Secure all space details. Dirtside routine, second section."
Of the four days they were there he spent the first three nominally supervising, and actually learning from, Kovak in the routine ninety-day inspection and overhaul of control room instruments. Ellie was vexed with him, as she had had different plans. But on the last day he hit dirt with her, chaperoned by Mr. and Mrs. Mendoza.
It was a wonderful holiday. Compared with Terra, Halcyon is a bleak place and Bonaparte is not much of a city. Nevertheless Halcyon is an earth-type planet with breathable air, and the party from the _Asgard_ had not set foot outdoors since Earthport, months of time and unthinkable light-years behind. The season was postaphelion, midsummer, Nu Pegasi burned warm and bright in blue sky. Mr. Mendoza hired a carriage and they drove out into green, rolling countryside behind four snuffling little Halcyon ponies. There they visited a native pueblo, a great beehive structure of mud, conoid on conoid, and bought souvenirs--two of which turned out to have "Made in Japan" stamped inconspicuously on them.
Their driver, Herr Eisenberg, interpreted for them. The native who sold the souvenirs kept swiveling his eyes, one after another, at Mrs. Mendoza. He twittered some remarks to the driver, who guffawed. "What does he say?" she asked.
"He was complimenting you."
"So? But how?"
"Well ... he says you are for a slow fire and no need for seasoning; you'd cook up nicely. And he'd do it, too," the colonist added, "if you stayed here after dark."
Mrs. Mendoza gave a little scream. "You didn't tell us they were _cannibals_. Josie, take me back!"
Herr Eisenberg looked horrified. "Cannibals? Oh, no, lady! They don't eat each other, they just eat us-- when they can get us, that is. But there hasn't been an incident in twenty years."
"But that's worse!"
"No, it isn't, lady. Look at it from their viewpoint. They're civilized. This old fellow would never break one of their laws. But to them we are just so much prime beef, unfortunately hard to catch."
"Take us back at once! Why, there are hundreds of them, and only five of us."
"Thousands, lady. But you are safe as long as Gneeri is shining." He gestured at Nu Pegasi. "It's bad juju to kill meat during daylight. The spirit stays around to haunt."
Despite his reassurances the party started back. Max noticed that Eldreth had been unfrightened. He himself had wondered what had kept the natives from tying them up until dark.
They dined at the Josephine, Bonaparte's best (and only) hotel. But there was a real three-piece orchestra, a dance floor, and food that was at least a welcome change from the menus of the Bifrost Lounge. Many ship's passengers and several officers were there; it made a jolly party. Ellie made Max dance between each course. He even got up his nerve to ask Mrs. Daigler for a dance, once she came over and suggested it.
During the intermission Eldreth steered him out on the adjacent balcony. There she looked up at him. "You leave that Daigler hussy alone, hear me?"