"Not you," Sally assured him. "Definitely not you. You four have the
very top super-special security rating there is! I think you're the only
four people in the world my father is sure can't be reached, somehow, to
make you harm the Platform."
Mike said abruptly: "Yeah. The Major thought he had headaches before.
Now he's really got 'em!"
Mike hadn't seemed to be listening. He'd acted as if he were feverishly
absorbing the feel of being inside the Platform--not as a workman
building it, but as a man whose proper habitat it would become. But Joe
suddenly realized that his comment was exact. There'd been plenty of
sabotage to prevent the Platform from reaching completion. But now it
was ready to take off in two days. If it was to be stopped, it would
have to be stopped within forty-eight hours by people with plenty of
resources, who for their own evil ends needed it to be stopped. These
last two days would contain the last-ditch, most desperate, most
completely ruthless stepped-up attempts at destruction that could
possibly be made. And Major Holt had to handle them.
But the four at table--five, with Sally--were peculiarly relaxed. The
matter they'd handled had been conspicuous, perhaps, but it was still
only one of thousands that had to be accomplished before the Platform
could take off. But they had the infinitely restful feeling of a job
well done.
"No more welding," said Haney meditatively, "and our job on the gyros
finished. What are we gonna do?"
The Chief said forcefully: "Me, I'm gonna sweep floors or something, but
I'm sure gonna stick around and watch the take-off!"
Joe said nothing. He looked at Sally. She became very busy, making
certain the others did not want more to eat. After a long time Joe said,
with very careful casualness, "Come to think of it, I was getting loaded
up with astrogation theory when I had to stop and pitch in on the gyros.
How's that sick crew member, Sally?"
"I--wouldn't know," answered Sally unconvincingly. "Have some more
coffee?"
Joe made his face go completely expressionless. There was nothing else
to do. Sally hadn't said that his chances looked bad for making the crew
of the Platform when it went out to space. But Sally had ways of knowing
things. She would be sure to keep informed on a matter like that,
because she was wearing Joe's ring and it would have taken a great deal
of discouragement to keep her from finding out good news to tell him.
She didn't have any good news. So it must be bad.
Joe drank his coffee, trying to make himself believe that he'd known all
along he wasn't going to make the crew. He'd started late to learn the
things a crew member ought to know. He'd stopped at the most crucial
part of his training to work on the gyros, which were more crucial
still. He'd slept a day and a half. The platform would take off in
forty-eight hours. He tried to reason carefully that it was common sense
to use a man who was fully trained from the beginning for a place in the
crew, rather than a latecomer like himself. But it wasn't easy to take.