ROBERT A HEINLEIN. BETWEEN PLANETS

Don leaned forward, shifting his weight onto his feet. “Do you think you could?” he said very softly.

Phipps grinned. “No, I don’t. That’s why I’ve had to think up another scheme. You know that we are making up the ship’s crew. How would you like to go along?”

XVIII – Little David

Don let his mouth drop open and left it that way. To his credit, while he had thought about it, he had never given it the slightest serious consideration; he was not conceited enough to think that he would be allowed to hitch a ride, just to suit his personal wishes, on this trip.

Phipps went on, “Frankly, I’m doing it to get rid of you, to put you on ice, safe from the Federation’s inquisitors, until it no longer matters. But I think I can justify it. We want to train as many as the Little David can carry on this trip as cadres for more ships. But my choice is limited—most of our group here are too old, or they are near-sighted, narrow-chested young geniuses suitable only for laboratories. You are young, you are healthy, your reflexes are fast—I know!—and you are space-wise from babyhood. True, you are not a qualified shiphandler, but that won’t matter too much; these ships will be new to everyone. Mr. Harvey, how would you like to go to Mars and return as ‘Captain Harvey,’ master of your own ship—a ship strong enough to strike at these Federation vermin orbiting around Venus?

“Or executive officer, at least,” Phipps qualified, reflecting that in a two-man ship Don could hardly be less.

Like it? He’d love it! Don’s tongue got twisted trying to accept too quickly. Then almost at once he was struck by a cold thought; Phipps saw from his expression that something was wrong. “What’s the matter?” Phipps said sharply. “Are you afraid?”

“Afraid?” Don looked annoyed. “Of course I’ll be afraid! I’ve been afraid so many times that I am no longer scared to be afraid again. That’s not the trouble.”

“What is it, then? Speak up!”

“It’s just this—I’m still on active duty. I can’t go gallivanting off a hundred million miles or so. Properly speaking, it would be desertion. Why, when they laid hands on me, they’d probably hang me first and ask questions afterwards.”

Phipps relaxed. “Oh. Perhaps that can be managed. You let me worry about it.”

It could be managed. It was only three days later that Don received new orders, written this time, and delivered by devious means that he could only guess at. They read:

To: Harvey, Donald J., Sergeant-Specialist 1/c Via: Channels

1. You are assigned to special temporary duty of indefinite duration.

2. You will travel as necessary to carry out this duty.

3. This assignment is deemed in the best interests of the Republic. When, in your opinion, your duties are completed, you will report to the nearest competent authority and request transportation to enable you to report in person to the Chief of Staff.

4. For the duration of this duty you are brevetted to the rank of sub-lieutenant.

J. S. Busby, Wing Colonel (brevet)

For the Commanding General

First Endorsement:

1. Delivered (via courier)

Henry Marsten, Captain (brevet) Commanding 16th Gondola Combat Team

Clipped to the orders was a scrawled note which read:

P.S. Dear “Lieutenant,”

These are the silliest orders I have ever had to endorse.

What the devil have you been up to? Did you marry one of the dragons? Or did you catch a Big Brass with his finger off his number? Anyway, have fun-and good hunting!

Marsten

Don tucked the orders and the note into his pocket. Every now and then he would reach in and touch them.

The days trickled away; the dotted line got ever closer to Mars: and the whole group got more and more jumpy. Another date was posted on the mess hall wall, a date by which the Little David must be ready—if they were to arrive in time.

The calendar marked that deadline the day the ship was finally manned. At raise-ship-minus-twenty-minutes Don was still in Sir Isaac’s study, his baggage (such as it was) already aboard. Saying goodbye to Sir Isaac, he discovered, was rather more difficult than he had expected it to be. His head was not cluttered with ideas about “father images” and the like; he was simply aware that this dragon was all the family he had, much more so than that remote pair on the planet where he was headed.

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