“Squatty says he’s gone down to the Captain’s office,” Alan informed him.
“So? It’s just as well. We’ll see him there. Alan, old boy, you know what?”
“What?”
“The time has arrived. We’re going to do it! Start moving the Ship!” Alan looked round-eyed. “Gee! Right now?”
“Just as soon as we can notify the Captain. Come along, if you like.”
“You bet! Wait while I tell my woman.” He darted away to his own quarters nearby.
“He pampers that wench,” remarked Ertz.
“Sometimes you can’t help it,” said Hugh with a faraway look.
Alan returned promptly, although it was evident that he had taken time to change to a fresh breechcloth. “O.K.,” he bubbled. “Let’s go!”
Alan approached the Captain’s office with a proud step. He was an important guy now, he exulted to himself. He’d march on through with his friends while the guards saluted; no more of this business of being pushed around.
But the doorkeeper did not stand aside, although he did salute, while placing himself so that he filled the door. “Gangway, man!” Ertz said gruffly.
“Yes, sir,” acknowledged the guard, without moving. “Your weapons, please.”
“What! Don’t you know me, you idiot? I’m the Chief Engineer.”
“Yes, sir. Leave your weapons with me, please. Regulations.”
Ertz put a hand on the man’s shoulder and shoved. The guard stood firm. “I’m sorry, sir. No one approaches the Captain wearing weapons. No one.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
“He remembers what happened to the old Captain,” Hugh observed sotto voce. “He’s smart.” He drew his own knife and tossed it to the guard, who caught it neatly by the hilt. Ertz looked; shrugged, and handed over his own. Alan, considerably crestfallen, passed his own pair over with a look that should have shortened the guard’s life.
Narby was talking; Joe-Jim was scowling on both his faces; Bobo looked puzzled, and naked, unfinished, without his ubiquitous knives and slingshot. “The matter is closed, Joe-Jim. That is my decision. I’ve granted you the faver of explaining my reasons, but it does not matter whether you like them or not.”
“What’s the trouble?” inquired Hugh.
Narby looked up. “Oh. I’m glad you came in. Your mutie friend seems to be in doubt as to who is Captain.”
“What’s up?”
“He,” growled Jim, hooking a thumb toward Narby, “seems to think he’s going to disarm all the muties.”
“Well, the war’s over, isn’t it?”
“It wasn’t agreed on. The muties were to become part of the Crew. Take the knives away from the muties and the Crew will kill them off in no time. It’s not fair. The Crew have knives.”
“The time will come when they won’t,” Narby predicted, “but I’ll do it at my own time in my own way. This is the first step. What did you want to see me about, Ertz?”
“Ask Hugh.” Narby turned to Hugh.
“I’ve come to notify you, Captain Narby,” Hugh stated formally, “that we are about to start the Main Converter and move the Ship.”
Narby looked surprised but not disconcerted. “I’m afraid you will have to postpone that. I am not yet ready to permit officers to go up to no-weight.”
“It won’t be necessary,” Hugh explained. “Ertz and I can handle the first maneuvers alone. But we can’t wait. If the Ship is not moved at once, the Trip won’t be in your lifetime nor mine.”
“Then it must,” Narby replied evenly, “wait.”
“What?” cried Hugh. “Narby, don’t you want to the Trip?”
“I’m in no hurry.”
“What sort of damn foolishness is this?” Ertz demanded. “What’s got into you, Fin? Of course we move the Ship.”
Narby drummed on his desk top before replying. Then: he said, “Since there seems to be some slight misunderstanding as to who gives orders around here, I might as well let you have it straight. Hoyland, as long as your pastimes did not interfere with the administration of tbe Ship, I was willing for you to amuse yourself. I granted that willingly, for you have been very useful in your own way. But when your crazy beliefs become a possible source of corruption to good morals and a danger to the peace and security of the Ship, I have to crack down.”