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Updated: June 11, 2025
The smile on her face faded, to be replaced by a look that was neither awe nor surprise, but partook of both. "You really mean that, don't you?" she asked in a hushed voice. "I do," said Mike the Angel. Commander Peter Jeffers was in the Control Bridge when Mike the Angel stepped in through the door.
Back-patting, or just hero worship?" Mike took a small taste of the brandy. "Neither, you jerk. But about eight hours ago I said something that I hadn't planned to say. I practically proposed to Leda Crannon without knowing I was going to." Peter Jeffers didn't laugh. He simply said, "How'd it happen?" Mike told him.
She told the Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the little boys. She almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her hand. "No trouble now!" She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured on. No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all seemed to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was standing, talking to Mr. Jeffers.
Mellon isn't in his stateroom." "Oh, wonderful!" growled Captain Quill. "We now have one insane robot and one insane human running loose on this ship. I'm glad we didn't bring any gorillas with us." "Somehow I think I'd be safer with a gorilla," said Mike the Angel. "According to the Physician's Mate, Mellon is worse than just nuts," said Jeffers quietly.
Comes from uisge-beatha, and by some bloody peculiar coincidence, that also means 'water of life. So you just set yourself right down here and get some life into you." Mike sat down at the computer table, and Jeffers sat down across from him. "Now you just drink on up, buddy-buddy and then tell your ol' Uncle Pete what the bloody hell the trouble is."
"No more'n I've heard about you who are in exactly the same position!" "Exactly," Mike agreed. "That's what I wanted to know. Pete, if you've got it to spare, I'll join you in that toast." Pete Jeffers grinned. "Comin' right up, buddy-boy." He poured two more cups of coffee, spiked them from a small flask of brandy, and handed one to Mike. They drank in silence.
To his left, in order down the table, were Mike the Angel, Lieutenant Keku, and Leda Crannon. On his right were Commander Jeffers, Ensign Vaneski, Lieutenant Commander von Liegnitz, and Dr. Morris Fitzhugh. Lieutenant Mellon's seat was empty. Black Bart cleared his throat. "It's been quite a trip, hasn't it? Well, it's almost over.
At that the most solemn oath that can pass the lips of a Rajput Roy looked startled. Then he laughed. "'Commem' seems to have disagreed with you all round! But I won't be intimidated. Likewise I won't back out. I intend opening diplomatic conversations with Jeffers to-night. Recherché dinner for two in my room. All his little weaknesses! He'd be a strong ally. Wish me luck."
It smote the offender between the eyebrows, leaving a caste-mark of warm ash to attest the accuracy of his aim. "Bull's eye!" Tara scored softly; and Roy, turning on his elbow, appealed to Broome. "Jeffers, please extinguish him!" Broome laughed. "I had a hazy notion he was your show candidate for the Indian Civil!" "He's supposed to be. That's the scandal of it.
"No one else will be able to do it." "Here is Dolf Jeffers," cried the good fellow at that moment, "what do you want?" He recognized the men; they were his friends, his fellow-workers, boatmen, like himself. All surrounded him, gesticulating. An old man, wizened as a dried plaice, tapped him on the shoulder, and said: "Dolf, for God's sake! A fellow-creature is being drowned. Help!
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