Nelson S. Bond

“ If there was any man aboard the Saturn whose knowledge of radio was equal to my own, that man was Lancelot Biggs! Why, he was the inventor of a new type of radio transmission plate. If this were to be his "final test," he would breeze home, win, place and show!
But Cooper didn't notice the elation in my eyes, or the equal joy in the skipper's optics. He was finishing his instructions.
"—and because you have learned who I am, Sparks, I suggest that you make no attempt to get in touch with, or speak to, Lieutenant Biggs. ”

“ A flash of the old fire lighted his weathered, space-faded eyes. "But, mind—I want you to study hard durin' this next year! If you want to win your stripes, you got to listen to a wiser head!"
"Yes, sir," said Lancelot Biggs. "I will, sir."
Then the skipper left. A great old guy. No longer listless and lackadaisical, space-weary, but a new man, imbued with a strong, fighting new urge. To help a young man earn his spurs. ”

“ But what has that to do with—Sparks!" His voice raised to a shout, and suddenly his pale eyes brightened. "Do you mean that—?"
"Nothing else but. That alleged Q.O. mugg, Cooper, is a phony? He's really an S.S.C.B. inspector. And since he's not riding the Saturn for his health, I'll give you one guess who he's watching—if you start with yourself."
Funny what emotion will do to a guy. Biggs was not the type to go into a blue funk. I'd seen him face danger, disgrace and death, not once but many times. Every time, he had confronted the situation calmly, coolly, nary a quake or quiver stirring him. ”

“ Biggs is the man to tell."
Hanson's eyes clouded, and he gnawed savagely at a grubby fingernail.
"That's just it, Sparks. I can't tell him."
"Why?" I demanded. "Laryngitis? Or ain't you and him speaking?"
"I can't tell him," explained the skipper, "because it would be unethical. You see, when a man's bein' examined for his commander's stripes, he ain't supposed to know about it. That's why Cooper come aboard under an alias. He wants to watch Lanse perform his routine duties in routine fashion—like nothin' unusual was goin' on. ”

“ Anybody can make a little mistake. Give him a chance to—"
"There is no place for 'boys'," snorted Cooper, "on the bridge of space-going vessels. Lieutenant Biggs has possibilities, yes. But I shall suggest to the S.S.C.B. that he be given another year of intensive training—under an old, accomplished spaceman; yourself, Captain Hanson—that he may learn resourcefulness, coolness, how to act under stress of emergency!
"And now, gentlemen, I shall retire until we reach Mars Central. Sparks, for God's sake quiet this bedlam as soon as possible!" ”

“ And that's the way it was aboard the Saturn. Sure, we had our little squabbles and fusses. Wilson is a sort of show-off, and Todd sometimes has a tendency to let others do his work. The Old Man's not much of an astrogator any more; after all, he's been pushing ether for more years than I've been alive; he's not as smart and alert as some of the fresh young brevetmen. And Biggs' genius for getting us in tough spots is second only to his ability at getting us out again.
But we're a team, see? And now, with Biggs moving up the ladder, some strange new guy would come in. ”

“ I suggested. "You're heterodyning on vocal freke; otherwise you seem to have matters under control. Nice going, bud. I guess you know this is your final test?"
"I suspected it. Well, I'm going to test now. See if I can contact Lunar III. Stand by, Sparks. I'll cut you into the circuit so you can hear."
Current hummed and squealed; dots and dashes ripped the ether as Biggs pulsed a signal to Mother Earth's satellite. Slow seconds dragged. We are very close to Mars, and it takes a message almost two and a half minutes to make the hurdle from the green planet to the red one. ”

“ Together we charged through the upper passageways, turned onto the ramp that feeds the bridge. By now, everything had gone stark, staring mad. All the time we were on the hoof, I kept hearing music. And every once in awhile a wild burst of static rasped my eardrums. And the heat increased. ”

“ And by the time things were back to normal, we were warping into the cradle-lists at Mars Central Spaceport.
Afterward, everybody was sympathetic. Bud Wilson said, "Too bad, Biggs! But you'll get another chance." And he went out. Dick Todd said, "Aw, the hell with it, Lanse. You were just a little excited, that's all—" And he left, too. And that left Biggs and the skipper and me alone in the turret. ”

“ That's what Captain Cooper said."
"Cooper, eh?" I groaned. "I always said it wasn't smart to make torture illegal." Then I remembered why I was confined to durance vile. "You seen Biggs?" I asked.
"No. He hasn't been down to lunch. He had to take over for you when you were taken ill." Doug looked anxious. "There—there's something wrong in your turret, Sparks. The intercommunications system is out, and the radio won't work."
I glanced at my watch. Two hours had passed since Cooper's coup. Hardly time for Lanse to unscramble the mess of pottery. ”

“ Still in the dark, Skipper. Why tell me?"
Hanson glared at me witheringly.
"If you was as deaf," he said, making noises like a sizzling steak, "as you are dumb, the Corporation might give me a new radio operator for this here jallop—I mean, ship! Look, stupid! Biggs had ought to know he's bein' watched by an examiner, shouldn't he? Not that he don't know how to do things right, but because—well, because every so often the boy gets whacky ideas an' starts tryin' experiments. ”

“ Go ahead, Saturn." It was Joe Marlowe's hand on the bug. I could tell that. You know how it is; every operator has a transmitting style just as distinctive as handwriting. "Go ahead, Saturn." Then, "Are you sober, Donovan?"
I gritted my teeth. But Biggs put an end to Joe's smart stuff with his next transmission.
"Donovan ill. Relief man at key. Saturn reporting for orders. Any orders, Luna? Any orders?"
Marlowe flashed back, "Sorry about Donovan. Nothing trivial, I hope? Yes, have one order, Saturn. From S.S.C.B. headquarters. To Inspector-Commander Cooper. ”