Colonel Enders said, "I'm beginning to agree with Cantrell, Captain.
We're not going to find anyone perfect, it seems, so we may as well
take those with the best qualifications. Cantrell certainly isn't going
to encounter animals in space, and there's no life on the moon; our
foremost scientists assure us of that."
"But can you be sure," the psychiatrist wondered, "can they be sure,
can anybody be sure? Scientists don't have all the right answers
about our Earth, much less the other planets; we know as much about
Earth as a flea knows about the dog or the cat he's on."
Cantrell grimaced at the analogy. "That's why we're going up, to find
a few answers. Anyway, tomorrow I'll be on my way because I've got
the qualifications for it, animals or no animals. And if the moon has
creatures on it that resemble dogs or cats or even fleas, I'll be
mighty surprised. How about you, Colonel?"
"Don't drag me into your arguments, Cantrell," the Colonel sighed. "I'm
a military man, not a scientist. Both the Earth and the moon may be
green cheese for all I know. The main thing I'm interested in is that
you get up there and back safely."
"I will," Cantrell promised.
"I hope you do," Captain Jarvis said earnestly. "I'm not trying to heap
obstacles in your path, Cantrell. It's just that we know so little
about anything that even an 'allergy' like yours might be a hazard.
Suppose up there, for example, it suddenly took on cockeyed proportions
and went to lesser animals; suppose a fly accidentally got aboard the
rocket, you might even open a hatch to get away from it--and forget to
put on your spacesuit."
"Thank the fates I'm not a military man, Jarvis, and can speak freely,"
Cantrell said dryly. "You already know I don't like you, and I'm
beginning to like you even less."
"Come, come," Colonel Evans said hastily, "there's no point in arguing.
We can't get perfection, I'm afraid. Cantrell here's the closest to
our qualifications we could get, physically and psychologically,
consistent with the right background for the job. Tomorrow at noon the
rocket's going to take off with Cantrell aboard, and then we'll know."
"Yes," the psychiatrist said steadily, "and then we'll know."