Greylorn | Page 7

was staging.
He wilted. "I'll see you at 1700 in the chart room, Kramer," I said as he

turned away. Mannion and Kirschenbaum looked at each other, then
finished their near-coffee hurriedly and left. I hoped their version of the
incident would help deflate Kramer's standing among the malcontents.
I left the wardroom and took the lift up to the bridge and checked with
Clay and his survey team.
"I think I've spotted a slight perturbation in Delta 3, Captain," Clay said.
"I'm not sure, we're still pretty far out."
"All right, Clay," I said. "Stay with it."
Clay was one of my more dependable men, dedicated to his work.
Unfortunately, he was no man of action. He would have little influence
in a show-down.
* * * * *
I was at the Schmidt when I heard the lift open. I turned; Kramer, Fine,
Taylor, and a half a dozen enlisted crew chiefs crowded out, bunched
together. They were all wearing needlers. At least they'd learned that
much, I thought.
Kramer moved forward. "We feel that the question of the men's welfare
has to be dealt with right away, Captain," he said smoothly.
I looked at him coldly, glanced at the rest of his crew. I said nothing.
"What we're faced with is pretty grim, even if we turn back now. I can't
be responsible for the results if there's any delay," Kramer said. He
spoke in an arrogant tone. I looked them over, let the silence build.
"You're in charge of this menagerie?" I said, looking at Kramer. "If so,
you've got thirty seconds to send them back to their kennels. We'll go
into the matter of unauthorized personnel on the bridge later. As for
you, Major, you can consider yourself under arrest in quarters. Now
Move."
Kramer was ready to stare me down, but Fine gave me a break by

tugging at his sleeve. Kramer shook him loose, snarling. At that the
crew chiefs faded back into the lift. Fine and Taylor hesitated, then
joined them. Kramer started to shout after them, then got hold of
himself. The lift moved down.
Kramer thought about going for his needler. I looked at him through
narrowed eyes. He decided to rely on his mouth, as usual. He licked his
lips. "All right, I'm under arrest," he said. "But as Medical Officer of
this vessel it's my duty to remind you that you can't live without a
certain minimum of fresh organic food. We've got to start back now."
He was pale, but determined. He couldn't bear the thought of getting
bald and toothless from dietary deficiency. The girls would never give
him another look.
"We're going on, Kramer," I said. "As long as we have a man aboard
still able to move. Teeth or no teeth."
"Deficiency disease is no joke, Captain," Kramer said. "You can get all
the symptoms of leprosy, cancer and syphilis just by skipping a few
necessary elements in your diet. And we're missing most of them."
"Giving me your opinions is one thing, Kramer," I said. "Mutiny is
another."
Clay stood beside the main screen, wide-eyed. I couldn't send Kramer
down under his guard. "Let's go, Kramer," I said. "I'm locking you up
myself."
We rode down in the lift. The men who had been with Kramer stood
awkwardly, silent as we stepped out into the passage. I spotted two
chronic trouble-makers among them. I thought I might as well call
them now as later. "Williams and Nagle," I said, "this officer is under
arrest. Escort him to his quarters and lock him in." As they stepped
forward hesitantly, Kramer said, "Keep your filthy hooks off me." He
started down the passage.
* * * * *

If I could get Kramer put away before anybody else started trouble, I
might be able to bluff it through. I followed him and his two sheepish
guards down past the power section, and the mess. I hoped there would
be no crowd there to see their hero Kramer under guard.
I was out of luck. Apparently word had gone out of Kramer's arrest,
and the corridor was clogged with men. They stood unmoving as we
approached. Kramer stopped.
"Clear this passage, you men," I said.
Slowly they began to move back, giving ground reluctantly.
Suddenly Kramer shouted. "That's right, you whiners and complainers,
clear the way so the Captain can take me back to the missile deck and
shoot me. You just want to talk about home; you haven't got the guts to
do anything about it."
The moving mass halted, milled. Someone shouted, "Who's he think he
is, anyway."
Kramer whirled toward me. "He thinks he's the man who's going to let
you all rot alive, to save his record."
"Williams, Nagle," I said loudly, "clear this passage."