"Heart? Heart? What's matter with Biggs' heart?"
"Why, the medico reported--"
"Oh, that!" pooh-poohed the Earth operator. "That was a mistake--didn't
I tell you? The examiners got mixed up. It seems their orders were to
examine _every_ single man aboard the _Saturn_, with no exceptions. And
since there were _two_ Biggs on board--"
Biggs, who had been listening to the message come in, jerked like a
spitballed schoolmarm.
"_Uncle Prenny!_" he yelled. "They got him mixed up with me. I'm the
_First_ Mate and he's the _First_ Vice-president. They probably just
entered the report that the 'First Officer' was unfit for space travel!
Uncle Prenny's heart has been bad for thirty years!"
I grunted contentedly and cut the connection. "Then all's well," I
said, "that ends swell, huh?"
The Old Man, too, grinned happily.
"Right you are, Sparks. From now on our troubles are over. Peace and
contentment from now on...."
But with Biggs aboard the _Saturn_, that's a thousand-to-one shot. Any
bets?