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but if Morrison and Drew had made a similar effort, Hollis

would probably not be in his present condition. From his knowledge

of Hollis during training, he thought the physicist, once he got over

his initial shyness and timidity, would have been a very pleasant and

stimulating person to have on a long voyage.
     
     
Instead they had talked about their jungle air war as if it had been some

kind of exclusive holiday, in a language which excluded Hollis. Then

they had gone on to talk about another matter -- again in the cryptic,

slangy manner the physicist was not supposed to understand. But Hollis

had been able to understand -- a little at first, then later he had been

able to piece together the whole frightful operation. He freely admitted

to McCullough that he was uneducated where such things as women and power

politics were concerned, because so much of his life had been spent in

collecting degrees, but this did not mean that he was stupid . . . !
     
     
"This was when you became restless and itchy, I take it," McCullough

broke in at that point, "and you began to irritate the others. How did

they react?"
     
     
"The colonel didn't react at all," said Hollis. "He just looked

long-suffering and stopped talking to me completely. Drew swore at me for

a time, then he went the same way. They started going outside together

between lectures, connecting their air lines to the ship supply so as not

to waste tanked air. They switched off their radios sometimes and talked

by touching helmets. But there was sound conduction along the return

air line and sometimes I could make out a word here and there. Enough

to know what was going on.
     
     
"Did you know," Hollis rushed on, "that the Hold at takeoff was deliberate?

That Morrison has made no attempt to close the distance between the two

ships? Fuel conservation, he says -- but your ship is expendable, did

you know that? They've discussed all sorts of hypothetical approaches

and tactics to use against the alien ship, the desirability of an armed

as opposed to an unarmed approach . . ."
     
     
Hollis' arms were partly folded and he was tearing absent-mindedly at

his forearms with fingernails which had been gnawed too short to do any

real damage. Suddenly he stopped scratching, closed his eyes tightly and

said, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you. But you've a right to know,

Doctor. P-One is carrying a Dirty Annie!"
     
     
Dirty Annie was a nuclear device which was a little too destructive and

long-lasting in its aftereffects to be called tactical. Mccullough was

silent for a moment as he thought over all the implications of what he

had heard, then he said, "This is serious."
     
     
It was a dangerously ambiguous remark, he realized as soon as he said it,

but Hollis had not noticed that. The physicist was talking furiously,

apologizing for sharing his worries with the doctor, pleading with him

not to tell the colonel, and to do something about Morrison and Drew.

McCullough listened with half his mind while the other half cringed

with sympathy.
     
     
Not all of the sympathy was for Hollis.
     
     
Morrison and Drew could not have had a very pleasant time either,

driven as they had been into long periods of unscheduled extravehicular

activity. They may well have been guilty of thoughtlessness in their

dealings with Hollis, but constant EVA put a dangerous strain on their

suits. The P-Ships could not afford the weight penalty of carrying spare

spacesuits, much less weaponry.
     
     
McCullough wondered suddenly what shape his own delusion would have taken,

what particular nightmare his own subconscious would have dredged up,

if Walters and Berryman had rejected him. An atomic bomb was perhaps a

too simple form for a physicist's nightmare to take, but then at heart

Hollis was a very simple man.
     
     
There still remained the question of his treatment.
     
     
Very quietly and seriously McCullough said, "Naturally I shall not