Sucks my power output and reduces
pressure on the oxygen pumps."
Roger nodded absently at the needlessly detailed explanation. Astro
looked at him sharply. "Say, what's eating you?"
"Honestly, Astro," said Roger, "I've never felt more miserable in my
life."
"Don't let it get you down, Roger," said Astro. "The major said it was a
mistake anyone could make."
"Yeah," flared Roger, "but have you seen the way he just--_talks_?"
"Talks?" asked Astro blankly.
"Yeah, talks," said Roger. "No yelling, or blasting off, or handing out
demerits like they were candy. Nothing! Why he hasn't even chewed Alfie
out since we left Junior. He just sits in his quarters."
Astro understood now and nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, you're
right. I'd rather have him fusing his tubes than the way he is now."
"Tom must feel pretty rotten, too," said Roger. "I haven't seen much of
him either."
"Or Alfie," put in Astro. "Neither of them have done anything but work.
I don't think either of them has slept since we left Tara."
"It's all my fault!" said Roger. "I'm nothing but a loudmouthed bag of
space gas--with an asteroid for a head!" He got up and lurched toward the
ladder.
Pages:
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208