Major Barris sighed. "No use trying to tell you space-chicks anything.
You’re lieutenants now, and a lieutenant has the thickest skull of any
rank, no matter what service he belongs to."
Rip realized that Barris had not been joking, no matter how flippant his
speech. "Go ahead," he urged. "Finish what you were going to say."
"Okay. I’ll make it short. Then you can catch the Terra rocket and take
your eight earth-weeks leave. You won’t really know what I’m talking about
until you’ve batted around space for a while. All I have to say adds up to
one thing. You won’t like it, because it doesn’t sound scientific. That
doesn’t mean it isn’t good science, because it is. Just remember this:
when you’re in a jam, trust your hunch and not your head."
The twelve stared at him, open-mouthed. For six years they had been taught
to rely on scientific methods. Now their best instructor and senior
officer was telling them just the opposite!
Rip started to object, then he caught a glimmer of meaning. He stuck out
his hand. "Thanks, Joe. I hope we’ll meet again."
Barris grinned. "We will, Rip. I’ll ask for you as a platoon commander
when they assign me to cleaning up the goopies on Ganymede." This was the
major’s idea of the worst Planeteer job in the Solar System.
The group shook hands all around; then the young officers broke for the
door on the run. The Terra rocket was blasting off in five minutes, and
they were due to be on it.
Rip joined Flip Villa and they jumped on the high speed track that would
whisk them to Valve Two on the other side of the platform. Their gear was
already loaded. They had only to take seats on the rocket and their six
years on the space platform would be at an end.
"I wonder what it will be like to get back to high gravity?" Rip mused.
The centrifugal force of the spinning platform acted as artificial
gravity, but it was considerably less than earth’s.
"We probably won’t be able to walk straight until we get our earth-legs
back," Flip answered. "I wish I could stay in Colorado with you instead of
going back to Mexico City, Rip. We could have a lot of fun in eight
weeks."