“Now, look,” Ramona flared, “I’m not saying I believe in all the superstitions that we keep in space, but the tapping on the outer hull of a ship as a warning of impending disaster is fairly well documented.”
“By searching until something wrong is found?” Tambu teased. “In any network of circuits and machinery as complex as a ship, at any given point in time, a close inspection would reveal something wrong. Are you trying to say you honestly believe that if we had inspected that system, say, a week ago, that we wouldn’t have found the flaw?”
Ramona glared. “All I know is that on five separate occasions I’ve been on board a ship when the tapping was heard. Each time a pending malfunction was found. That’s enough to convince me to stop everything and run a check-inspection if we hear it again. Wouldn’t you?”
“Sure I would,” Tambu acknowledged. “But even though I keep the superstitions right along with everybody else, there’s part of my mind that reminds me that what I’m doing is silly. You’d think man would have outgrown such childishness, but instead we find technology and superstition advancing hand in hand down the starlanes. I just find it a bit ironic is all.”
“Well, I don’t think we’ll ever get away from it,” Ramona grumbled, still annoyed at his teasing. “Let’s face it. Our crewmembers aren’t the brightest representatives mankind can muster. A lot of them don’t have much education other than what they’ve picked up on shipboard. That means they learn the superstitions right along with everything else.”