Besides she was about the prettiest thing he ever saw, if you looked at her right.
When Mr. and Mrs. Dumont, by special dispensation, joined the colony it caused him to act. Since the steward and stewardess would have no duties in a ship without passengers no one could reasonably object--but it gave Max an approach. He went to see the First Officer.
"Probationary Apprentice Jones, sir."
Walther glanced up. "I think I'd say 'Assistant Astrogator Jones' if I were you. Closer to the facts. Come in."
"Uh, that's what I wanted to speak with you about, sir."
"So? How?"
"I want to revert to my billet."
"Eh? Why would you rather be a chartsman than an astrogator? And what difference does it make--now?"
"No, sir. I'm electing to resume my permanent appointment, steward's mate third."
Walther looked amazed. "There must be more to this. Explain yourself."
With much stammering Max explained his trouble with Simes. He tried to be fair and finished with the dismal feeling that he had sounded childish. Walther said, "You're sure about this? Mr. Simes has said nothing to me about you."
"He wouldn't, sir. But it's true. You can ask Kelly."
Walther thought for a while. "Mr. Jones, I wouldn't attach too much importance to this. At your age these conflicts of personality often seem more serious than they are. My advice is to forget it and do your work. I'll speak to Mr. Simes about his keeping you out of the control room. That isn't proper and I am surprised to hear it."
"No, sir."
"'No, sir' what?"
"I want to return to steward's mate."
"Eh? I don't understand you."
"Because, sir, I want to join the colony. Like Chief Steward Dumont."
"Oh ... A light begins to dawn." Walther slapped the desk emphatically. "Absolutely no! Under no circumstances."
"Sir?"
"Please understand me. This is not discrimination. If you were a steward's mate and nothing else, I would consider your request--under the special circumstances which I believe pertain. But you are an astrogator. You know our situation. Dr. Hendrix is dead. Captain Blaine--well, you have seen him. He may recover, I cannot plan on it. Mr. Jones, as long as there is any faint hope that this ship will ever lift again, as long as we have crew to work her, no astrogator, no chartsman, no computerman will be relieved from duty for any reason whatsoever. You see that, don't you?"
"I guess so, sir. Uh, aye aye, sir."
"Good. By the way, keep this to yourself, but as soon as the colony can get along without us temporarily, I want the ship placed in a parking orbit so that you specialists can maintain a search. You can't work very well through this atmosphere, can you?"
"No, sir. Our instruments were designed for open space."
"So we must see that you get it." The First Officer sat silent, then added, "Mr. Jones--Max, isn't it? May I speak to you man to man?"
"Uh? Certainly, sir."
"Mmm ... Max, this is none of my business, but treat it as fatherly advice. If you have an opportunity to marry--and want to--you don't have to join the colony to do it. If we stay, it won't matter in the long run whether you are crew or a charter member of the village. If we leave, your wife goes with you."
Max's ears burned. He could think of nothing to say.
"Hypothetical question, of course. But that's the proper solution." Walther stood up. "Why don't you take the day off? Go take a walk or something. Fresh air will do you good. I'll speak to Mr. Simes."
Instead, Max went looking for Sam, did not find him in the ship, discovered that he had gone dirtside. He followed him down and walked the half mile to Charityville.
Before he reached the building that was being worked on he saw a figure separate itself from the gang. He soon saw that it was Eldreth. She stopped in front of him, a sturdy little figure in dirty dungarees. She planted her feet and set fists on her hips.
"Uh, howdy, Ellie."
"Up to your old tricks! Avoiding me. Explain yourself."
The injustice of it left him stuttering. "But ... Now see here, Ellie, it's not that way at all. You've been ..."
"A likely story. You sound like Chipsie caught with her hand in a candy dish. I just wanted to tell you, you reluctant Don Juan, that you have nothing to worry about. I'm not marrying anyone this season. So you can resume the uneven tenor of your ways."
"But, Ellie ..." he started desperately.
"Want me to put it in writing? Put up a bond?" She looked fiercely at him, then began to laugh, wrinkling her nose. "Oh, Max, you large lout, you arouse the eternal maternal in me. When you are upset your face gets as long as a mule's. Look, forget it."
"But, Ellie ... Well, all right."
"Pals?"
"Pals."
She sighed. "I feel better. I don't know why, but I don't like to be on the outs with you. Where were you going?"
"Uh, nowhere. Taking a walk."
"Fine. I'll go too. Half a sec while I gather in Chipsie." She turned and called, "Mister Chips! Chipsie!"
"I don't see her."
"I'll get her." She ran off, to return quickly with the spider puppy on her shoulder and a package in her hand. "I picked up my lunch. We can split it."
"Oh, we won't be gone that long. Hi, Chipsie baby."
"Hi, Max. Candy?"
He dug into a pocket, found a sugar cube that he had saved several days ago for the purpose; the spider puppy accepted it gravely and said, "Thank you."
"Yes, we will," Ellie disagreed, "because some of the men saw a herd of those centaur ponies the other side of that ridge. It's quite a hike."
"I don't think we ought to go that far," he said doubtfully. "Won't they miss you?"
"I've been doing my share. See my callouses?" She stuck out a grimy paw. "I told Mr. Hornsby that I was suddenly come down with never-get-overs and he would have to find somebody else to hold while he hammered."
He was pleased to give in. They went up rising ground and into an arroyo and soon were in a grove of primitive conifers. Mr. Chips jumped down from Ellie's shoulders and scurried up a tree. Max stopped. "Hadn't we better catch her?"
"You worry too much. Chipsie wouldn't run away. She'd be scared to death. Chipsie! Here, honey!"
The spider puppy hustled through branches, got directly above them, dropped a cone on Max. Then she laughed, a high giggle. "See? She just wants to play."
The ridge was high and Max found that his hillbilly's wind had been lost somewhere among the stars. The arroyo meandered slowly upwards. He was still woodsman enough to keep a sharp eye out for landmarks and directions. At weary last they topped the crest. Ellie paused. "I guess they're gone," she said disappointedly, staring out over flatter country below them. "No! Look over there. See them! About two dozen little black dots."
"Uh huh. Yeah."
"Let's go closer. I want a good look."
"I wonder if that's smart? We're a far piece from the ship and I'm not armed."
"Oh, they're harmless."
"I was thinking of what else might be in these woods."
"But we're already in the woods, and all we've seen are the hobgoblins." She referred to the balloonlike creatures, two of which had trailed them up the arroyo. The humans had grown so used to their presence that they no longer paid them any attention.
"Ellie, it's time we went back."
"No."
"Yes. I'm responsible for you. You've seen your centaurs."
"Max Jones, I'm a free citizen. You may be starting back; I'm going to have a close look at those underslung cow ponies." She started down.