mouth to feed. At the moment, at least, they’re feeding him.”
“For raising ship,” Oberholzer retorted, “if there’s any
damn chance of welding our two heaps of junk together and
getting off this mudball. We ought to look into it, anyhow.”
Robin One was looking more alarmed by the minute. If
the prospect of getting into a fight with the Calleans had
scared him, Oberholzer thought, the notion of hard physical
labor evidently was producing something close to panic.
“Where could we go?” he said. “Supposing that we could
fly such a shambles at all?”
“I don’t know,” Oberholzer said. “We don’t know what’s
possible yet. But anything’s better than sitting around here
and starving. First off, I want that man from the Dragon.”
“I’m opposed to it,” 12-Upjohn said firmly. “The Calleans
are leaving us to our own devices now. If we cause any real
trouble they may well decide that we’d be safer locked up,
or dead. I don’t mind planning to lift ship if we canbut no
military expeditions.”
“Sir,” Oberholzer said, “military action on this planet is
what I was sent here for. I reserve the right to use my own
judgment. You can complain, if we ever get backbut I’m
not going to let a man rot in a worm-burrow while I’ve got a
gun on my back. You can come along or not, but we’re
going.”
He signaled to Cassirir, who seemed to be grinning slightly.
12-Upjohn stared at him for a moment, and then shook his
head.
“We’ll stay,” he said. “Since we have no water. Sergeant,
I hope you’ll do us the kindness of telling us where your part
of the ship lies.”