I said, “Sure kid, sure!” and went over and patted her hand. She grabbed onto mine.
I don’t know what made me say what I did then. Goodness knows the brat had never been anything but a headache, with her endless questions and her insistence that she be allowed to do anything I did. But I heard myself saying, “Don’t worry, Peggy. If you go. back, I’ll go with you.”
Dad looked at me sharply, then turned to Peggy. “Bill spoke hastily, Baby. You mustn’t hold him to that.”
Peggy said, “You did so mean it, didn’t you, Bill?”
I was regretting it already. But I said, “Sure, Peggy.”
Peggy turned back to Dad. “See? But it doesn’t matter; we’re not going back, not any of us. Please Daddy —I’ll get well, I promise you I will. I’m getting better every day.”
Sure, she was—in a pressurized room. I sat there, sweating, and wishing I had kept my big mouth shut. Molly said, “It defeats me, George. What do you think?”
“Mmmm—”
“Well?”
“Uh, I was thinking we could pressurize one room in our quarters. I could rig some sort of an impeller in the machine shop.”
Peggy was suddenly all over her tears. “You mean I can get out of the hospital?”
“That’s the idea, Sugar, if Daddy can work it.”
Molly looked dubious. “That’s no answer to our problems, George.”
“Maybe not.” Dad stood up and squared his shoulders. “But I have decided one thing; we all go, or we’ll all stay. The Lermers stand together. That’s settled.”
Homesteading wasn’t the only thing we had been mistaken about. There was Scouting on Ganymede even if the news hadn’t gotten back to Earth. There hadn’t been any meetings of the Mayflower troops after we landed; everybody had been just too busy to think about it. Organized Scouting is fun, but sometimes there just isn’t time for it.
There hadn’t been any meetings of the Leda Troop, either. They used to meet in their town hall; now we had their town hall as a mess hall, leaving them out in the cold. I guess that didn’t tend to make them fee! chummy towards us.
I ran into this boy over in the Exchange. Just as he was passing me I noticed a little embroidered patch on his chest. It was a homemade job and not very good, but I spotted it. “Hey!” I said.
He stopped. ” ‘Hey’ yourself! Were you yelling at me?”
“Uh, yes. You’re a Scout, aren’t you?”
“Certainly.”
“So am I. My name’s Bill Lermer. Shake.” I slipped him the Scout grip.
He returned it. “Mine’s Sergei Roskov.” He looked me over. “You’re one of the Johnny-Come-Latelies, aren’t you?”
“I came over in the Mayflower” I admitted.
“That’s what I meant. No offense— I was born Earth-side, myself. So you used to be a Scout, back home. That’s good. Come around to meeting and we’ll sign you up again.”
“I’m still a Scout,” I objected.
“Huh? Oh, I get you—’Once a Scout, always a Scout.’ Well, come around and we’ll make it official.”
That was a very good time for me to keep my lip zipped. But not me—oh, no! When comes the Tromp of Doom, I’ll still be talking instead of listening. I said, “It’s as official as it can be. I’m senior patrol leader, Baden-Powell Troop.”
“Huh? You’re kind of far away from your troop, aren’t you?”
So I told him all about it. He listened until I was through, then said quietly, “And you laddie bucks had the nerve to call yourselves the ‘Boy Scouts of Ganymede.’ Anything else you would like to grab? You already have our meeting hall; maybe you’d like to sleep in our beds?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” He seemed to be thinking it over. “Just a friendly warning, Bill——”
“Huh?”
“There is only one senior patrol leader around here–and you’re looking right at him. Don’t make any mistake about it. But come on around to meeting anyhow,” he added. “You’ll be welcome. We’re always glad to sign up a new tenderfoot.”
I went back to the Receiving Station and looked up Hank Jones and told him all about it. He looked at me admiringly. “William, old son,” he said, “I’ve got to hand it to you. It takes real talent to louse things up that thoroughly. It’s not easy.”