‘You don’t look so hot yourself, Dad.’
‘I don’t feel so hot, just betwen us. Can you work that prob, or do you want to sack in for a while?’
‘Sure I can!’
‘Well… mind your decimal places.’
‘Aye aye, Captain.’
‘I’m going aft.’ He started to unstrap, saying into the intercom as he did so, ‘All hands, unstrap at will. Power room, secure the pile and lock your board.’
Hazel answered, ‘I heard the flight report, Skipper. Power room secured.’
‘Don’t anticipate my orders, Hazel — unless you want to walk back.’
She answered, ‘I expressed myself poorly, Captain. What I mean to say is, we are now securing the power room, as per your orders, sir. There — it’s done. Power room secured!’
‘Very well, Chief.’ He smiled grimly, having noted by the tell-tales on his own board that the first report was the correct one; she had secured as soon as she had known they were in the groove. Just as he had feared: playing skipper to a crew of rugged individualists was not going to be a picnic. He grasped the centre stanchion, twisted around so that he faced aft and floated through the hatch into the living quarters.
He wiggled into the bunkroom and checked himself by a handhold. His wife, daughter, and least child were all unstrapped. Dr Stone was manipulating the child’s chest and stomach. He could not see just what she was doing but it was evident that Lowell had become violently nauseated — Meade, glassy-eyed herself, was steadying herself with one hand and trying to clean up the mess with the other. The boy was still unconscious.
Roger Stone felt suddenly worse himself. ‘Good grief!’
His wife looked over her shoulder. ‘Get my injection kit,’ she ordered. ‘In the locker behind you. I’ve got to give him the antidote and get him awake. He keeps trying to swallow his tongue.’
He gulped. ‘Yes, dear, Which antidote?’
‘Neocaffeine — one c.c. Move!’
He found the case, loaded the injector, handed it to Dr Stone. She pressed it against the child’s side. ‘What else can I do?’ he asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘Is he in any danger?’
‘Not while I have an eye on him. Now get out and ask Hazel to come here.’
‘Yes, dear. Right away.’ He swam on aft, found his mother sitting in midair, looking pleased with herself. Pollux was still loosely secured to his control couch. ‘Everything all right back here?’ he asked.
‘Sure. Why not? Except my assistant, maybe. I believe he wants off at the next stop.’
Pollux growled. ‘I’m feeling okay. Quit riding me.’
Roger Stone said, ‘Edith could use your help, Mother. Buster has thrown up all over the bunkroom.’
‘Why, the little devil! He didn’t have a thing to eat today; I rode herd on him myself.’
‘You must have let him out of your sight for a few minutes, from the evidence. Better go give Edith a hand.’
‘To hear is to obey, Master.’ She kicked one heel against the bulkhead behind her and zipped out the hatch. Roger turned to his son.
‘How’s it going?’
‘I’ll be all right in a couple of hours. It’s just one of those things you have to go through with, like brushing your teeth.’
‘Check. I’d like to rent a small planet myself. Have you written up the engineering log?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Do so. It will take your mind off your stomach.’ Roger Stone went forward again and looked into the bunkroom. Lowell was awake and crying; Edith had him sheeted to a bunk to give him a feeling of pressure and stability.
The child wailed, ‘Mama! Make it hold still’
‘Shush, dear. You’re all right. Mother is here.’
‘I want to go home!’
She did not answer but caressed his forehead. Roger Stone backed hastily out and pulled himself forward.
By supper time all hands except Lowell were over the effects of free fall — a sensation exactly like stepping off into an open elevator shaft in the dark. Nevertheless no one wanted much to eat; Dr Stone limited the menu to a clear soup, crackers, and stewed dried apricots. Ice cream was available but there were no takers.