“What do you mean: `since you got banged in the head’ ?”
Cargraves spoke very soberly. “I knew at that time, after we looked over the grounds, that that `accident’ was no accident. Somebody put a slug on me, probably with a blackjack. I couldn’t see why then and I still don’t see why. I should have seen the light when we started having prowlers. But I couldn’t believe that it was really serious. Yesterday I knew it was. Nobody impersonates a federal inspector unless he’s playing for high stakes and willing to do almost anything. It had me worried sick. But I still didn’t see why anybody would want anything we’ve got and I certainly didn’t think they would try to kill us.”
“You think they meant to kill us?” asked Ross.
“Obviously. The phony inspector booby-trapped us. He planted some sort of a bomb.”
“Maybe he meant to wreck the ship rather than to kill us.”
“What for?”
“Well,” said Art, “maybe they’re after the senior prizes.”
“Wrecking our ship won’t win him any prize money.”
“No, but it could keep us from beating him.”
“Maybe. It’s far-fetched but it’s as good an answer as any. But the reason doesn’t matter. Somebody is out to get us and he’s willing to go to any lengths. This desert is a lonely place. If I could afford a squadron of guards around the place we might bull it through. But I can’t. And I can’t let you kids get shot or bombed. It’s not fair to you, nor to your parents.”
Art looked stubborn and unhappy.
Morrie’s face was an impassive mask. Finally he said, “If that’s all you’ve got to say, Doc, I suggest we eat and adjourn until tomorrow.”
“All right.”
“Not just yet.” Ross had stood up. He groped for the back of his chair and tried to orient himself. “Where are you, Doc?”
“I’m here — to your left.”
“All right. Now I’ve got some things to say. I’m going to the moon. I’m going to the moon, somehow, whether you want to go or not. I’m going to the moon even if I never get back the use of my eyes. I’m going to the moon even if Morrie or Art has to lead me around. You can do as you please.”
“But I’m surprised at you, Doc,” he went on. “You’re afraid to take the responsibility for us, aren’t you? That’s the size of it?”
“Yes, Ross, that’s the size of it.”
“Yet you were willing to take the responsibility of leading us on a trip to the moon. That’s more dangerous than anything that could happen here, isn’t it? Isn’t it?”
Cargraves bit his lip. “It’s different.”
“I’ll tell you how it’s different. If we get killed trying to make the jump, Ninety-nine chances out of a hundred we all get killed together. You don’t have to go back and explain anything to our parents. That’s how it’s different!”
“Now, Ross!”
“Don’t `Now, Ross’ me. Want the deuce, Doc?” he went on bitterly. “Suppose it had happened on the moon; would you be twittering around, your morale all shot? Doc, I’m surprised at you. If you are going to have an attack of nerves every time the going gets a little tough, I vote for Morrie for permanent captain.”
“That’s about enough, Ross,” Morrie put in quietly.
“Okay. I was through, anyway.” Ross sat down.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Morrie broke it by saying, “Art, let’s you and me throw together some food. Study hour will be late as it is.” Cargraves looked surprised. Morrie saw his expression and continued, “Sure. Why not? Art and I can take turns reading aloud.”
Cargraves pretended to be asleep that night long before he was. Thus he was able to note that Morrie and Art stood alternate watches all night, armed and ready. He refrained from offering any advice.
The boys both went to bed at sunrise. Cargraves got painfully but quietly out of bed and dressed. Leaning on a stick he hobbled down to the ship. He wanted to inspect the damage done by the bomb, but he noticed first the case containing the thorium, bulking large because of its anti-radiation shipping shield. He saw with relief that the seal of the atomics commission was intact. Then he hunched himself inside the ship and made his way slowly to the drive compartment.