"We had no choice."
"You know damn well that the broken-down old stovepipes you buy from
war surplus are too slow to handle split loads. Who promised you the
canned goods?"
"Lesquallan, Ltd."
"Oh, Lord!" said Swenson. "An outfit that expects lions to lie down
with lambs!"
The red _ship-calling_ light flashed on.
"Number 4 to dispatcher. This is Captain Elsing. Dovorkin...."
"Dispatcher to Number 4. Dovorkin, hell. This is Swenson. What blasts?"
"B jet just went out. Atomic slug clogged."
"How radioactive is the spout?" asked Swenson.
"Heavy."
"Have somebody who's already had a family put on armor and clean up the
mess," Swenson said, "and alter course for Luna City. I'll send you the
exact course in a few minutes. When you get to Luna, land beside the
Moulton Trust's ship. Now stand by to record code."