"Sorry," Control said, "I'll contact the jeep. One of Captain Jarvis'
dogs got loose, and--"
"I'm not interested in your excuses," Cantrell said angrily, "and I
don't care if it does belong to Captain Jarvis. Get it off the field,
or I'll blast it off!" Irritably, he cut communications.
He looked out the window. The jeep had stopped, and someone had gotten
out and was walking back to collar the dog and return it. The jeep
started up again.
Cantrell breathed a sigh of relief. He felt annoyed with himself, as he
always did when something like this happened, but the self-condemnation
failed to placate him. Damn it! Jarvis was a psychiatrist; the man knew
how these things affected him. To make matters worse, it was Jarvis'
dog. Probably trying another of his "experiments", Cantrell thought
disgustedly.
He crawled out of the airlock and down the long metal stairs to the
ground. The jeep pulled up, and the khaki-clad driver said, "Sorry
about the dog, sir, but--"
"Skip it," Cantrell snapped, climbing into the jeep. "Just take me to
HQ."
The soldier nodded and spun the jeep around. They went flashing toward
a fat clump of buildings that squatted alone at the edge of the landing
field.
As Cantrell had expected, Captain Jarvis was with Colonel Enders in the
latter's office.
"What was the idea of sending out that mongrel," Cantrell flared. "You
know I'm allergic to animals."
"It was an accident. Besides, you're not allergic to anything," the
psychiatrist said calmly, ignoring the insult to his pet. "You're
rationalizing a pathological fear--"
"Now, see here--"
Captain Jarvis held up a placating hand "--or hatred, if you wish, of
animals."
"Okay, okay, I don't like animals," Cantrell said. "We've been over
that a dozen times. So what? I suppose you still think it has some
bearing on my going to the moon and back?"