"Moping around," I acknowledged, "like a biddie on a china egg. But you
can't expect anything different, Skipper. After all, he didn't want to
leave Diane at a time like this."
"Of course not. Neither did I. But since we had to, we might as well
buckle down and get the job tooken care of as quick as possible.
Anyway, you're keepin' in touch with home, ain't you?"
"Absolutely. Holding an open circuit every minute. But don't worry
about Biggs, Skipper. He'll be all right as soon as we actually get to
work."
* * * * *
That's as far as I got with my Pollyanna glad-talk. For at that moment
the intercommunicating system rasped into life, and in the reflector
appeared the baffled pan of Dick Todd, our Second Mate. Dick was so
nervous he had to lick his lips three times before he could grease out
a word. At last:
"S-s-skipper!" he managed.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Th-th-themis! We're pulling into Themis--"
The Old Man glanced at his chronometer and nodded.
"O.Q. So we're dropping gravs on schedule? So?"
"N-n-nothing," gulped Todd, "except that Themis has d-d-disappeared!
The automatic alarm system is going crazy. According to it, there's a
large cosmic body right in front of _us--but we can't see a thing_!"
* * * * *
I said, "Oh-oh!" and groped for my transmitter key. But before I could
start pounding the bug, Hanson grabbed my wrist.
"And just what do you think _you're_ doing, Sparks?"
"I don't _think_," I told him, "I _know_! When people see things that
aren't there, I know what to do. Hide the bottle. But when they start
_not_ seeing things that _are_ there, that's all, folks! I'm calling
the S.S.P. base on Luna and asking them to rush a hospital ship out
this way, immediately if not sooner. A nice, pretty hospital ship
equipped with soft, hemstitched straitjackets--"
"Don't be a dope," roared the Old Man. "Todd don't talk nonsense for no
good reason. There's something screwy goin' on around here. I want to
know what it is. Come on!"
And he galloped from my turret like a bolt of goosed lightning, hauling
me along in his wake by sheer suction. We hightailed it through the
corridors, up the ramp, and onto the bridge. There we found both Todd
and Biggs. Todd was still a delicate shade of bilious green, but he was
hunched over the plot table, scribbling hurried calculations. Biggs was
in the pilot's bucket seat, punching away at the studs as cheerfully as
if this were a routine test flight in home atmo.
He glanced around as we came in, and his eyes popped out on stalks. He
half rose from his seat.
"A--a message, Sparks?" he quavered.