The trideo was on and some narrator's voice was explaining and showing
the course of the ship on a chart, and just where it would go.
The ship was still unaccountably out of control. The plotted course
showed that it would intercept Mars. And a map of Mars showed
precisely where the ship would strike the surface.
Of all the barren areas on Mars where the ship could strike and do a
little less surface damage, it was headed instead straight for the
only densely populated, industrial area.
I looked at Goil and saw that his morale could be trod on. He probably
already had computed his own monetary loss as well as the company
losses. But he wasn't saying a word. He was keeping his misery to
himself.
Let him stew until morning, I thought. By then he should be ripe for
the little package I was planning to hand him.
* * * * *
By morning, the confidence that I had the night before had pretty much
dissipated. Nevertheless, I followed Goil from the dining hall to his
quarters, giving him only time to complete any personal necessities
before knocking on his door.
Some of my confidence returned when I entered the room. He looked as
if he hadn't slept any at all. The impending doom of his Mars holdings
had apparently dwelt with him most intimately the past night.