"Let me tell you something," she went on. "During my first trick
in the control room--not long after we started our routine on this
ship--Spartan came in and spent almost the five hours with me. He
talked to me as I'd never been talked to before, Bill Drake. He told me
to move my sleeping bag into his compartment and live there. He made it
sound as if it were my duty and that I'd be shirking if I didn't."
I gaped at her. "The hell he did!" I just couldn't believe it. "You
must have misunderstood him--"
"I most certainly did not!" she said. "Don't you believe me?"
"Well, the guy isn't any tin god," I said. "But he didn't force you to
do what he'd suggested."
"Do you know why?" she asked. When I didn't answer she went on.
"Because I told him that if he did, he'd have to explain to the whole
crew. He'd wind up with a red-hot mutiny on his hands. And when we
returned from Mars, I'd nail his hide to the Pentagon, or some other
conspicuous place."