“Slow down!” Joe interrupted. “I don’t agree to this. Why should he be Captain?”
Narby faced him. “Do you want to be Captain?” He kept his voice carefully free of sarcasm. A mutie for Captain!
“Huff’s name, no! But why should you be? Why not Ertz or Hugh?”
“Not me,” Hugh disclaimed. “I’ll have no time for administration. I’m the astrogator.”
“Seriously, Joe-Jim,” Ertz explained, “Narby is the one of the group who can get the necessary cooperation out of the Ship’s officers.”
“Damn it, if they won’t cooperate we can slit their throats.”
“With Narby as Captain we won’t have to slit throats.”
“I don’t like it,” groused Joe. His brother shushed, “Why get excited about it, Joe? Jordan knows we don’t want the responsibility.”
“I quite understand your misgivings,” Narby suggested suavely, “but I don’t think you need worry. I would forced to depend on you, of course, to administer the muties. I would administer the lower decks, a job I am used to and you would be Vice-Captain, if you are willing serve, for the muties. It would be folly for me to attempt to administer directly a part of the Ship I’m not familiar with and people whose customs I don’t know. I really can’t accept the captaincy unless you are willing to help me in that fashion. Will you do it?”
“I don’t want any part of it,” protested Joe.
“I’m sorry. Then I must refuse to be Captain. I really can’t undertake it if you won’t help me that much.”
“Oh, go ahead, Joe,” Jim insisted. “Let’s take it, for the time being at least. The job has to be done.”
“All right,” Joe capitulated, “but I don’t like it.”
Narby ignored the fact that Joe-Jim had not specifically agreed to Narby’s elevation to the captaincy; no further mention was made of it.
The discussion of ways and means was tedious and need not be repeated. It was agreed that Ertz, Alan, and Narby should all return to their usual haunts and occupations while preparations were made to strike.
Hugh detailed a guard to see them safely down to high-weight. “You’ll send Alan up when you are ready?” he said to Narby as they were about to leave.
“Yes,” Narby agreed, “but don’t expect him soon. Ertz and I will have to have time to feel out friends, and there’s the matter of the old Captain. I’ll have to persuade him to call a meeting of all the Ship’s officers; he’s never too easy to handle.”
“Well, that’s your job. Good eating!”
“Good eating.”
On the few occasions when the scientist priests who ruled the Ship under Jordan’s Captain met in full assembly they gathered in a great hall directly above the Ship’s offices on the last civilized deck. Forgotten generations past, before the time of the mutiny led by Ship’s Metalsmith Roy Huff, the hall had been a gymnasium, a place for fun and healthy exercise, as planned by the designers of the great starship; but the present users knew nothing of that.
Narby watched the roster clerk check off the Ship’s Officers as they arrived, worried under a bland countenance. There were only a few more to arrive; he would soon have no excuse not to notify the Captain that the meeting was ready, but he had received no word from Joe-Jim and Hoyland. Had that fool Alan managed to get himself killed on the way up to deliver the word? Had he fallen and broken his worthless neck? Was he dead with a mutie’s knife in his belly?
Ertz came in, and before seeking his seat among the department heads, went up to where Narby sat in front of the Captain’s chair. “How about it?” he inquired softly.
“All right,” Narby told him, “but no word yet.”
“Hm-m-m.” Ertz turned around and assayed his support in the crowd. Narby did likewise. Not a majority, not a certain majority, for anything as drastic as this. Still, the issue would not depend on voting.
The roster clerk touched his arm. “All present, sir, except those excused for sickness, and one on watch at the Converter.”
Narby directed that the Captain be notified, with a sick feeling that something had gone wrong. The Captain, as usual, with complete disregard for the comfort and convenience of others, took his time about appearing. Narby was glad of the delay, but miserable in enduring it. When the old man finally waddled in, flanked by his orderlies, and settled heavily into his chair, he was, again as usual, impatient to get the meeting over. He waved for the others to be seated and started in on Narby.