Гарри Гаррисон: Unto My Manifold Dooms

'Sonny—I think,' Robson said hesitatingly. 'But I'm not really sure of the roster.'

'I'm sure,' Hegg said grimly. He spun to the intercome phone on the wall of the lock chamber and leaned on the bell button.

'What's up?' the tiny speaker buzzed. 'This station on call day and ni . . .'

'You did not fill the shower tank, Greer. It is on your duty roster for today.'

'You're right, Cap'n. Clean slipped my head worrying about dinner and all. Soon as you get inside I'll get right on it.'

'Can you tell me how we are going to get back inside if we can't rinse?'

There was only silence for long seconds. Then, 'I'm sorry about that. Just an accident. Is there anything we can do?'

'You're damn right there is. Get the drill and chuck in a bit with a diameter smaller than the filling hose from the reserve cans. Shave down the end of the hose, then one of you stand by with the tank while the other one drills a hole. As soon as the drill is through jam in the end of the hose—and I mean fast. You'll have a positive pressure on your side, so you'll be all right. We're in our suits. Then let in the shower fluid. We'll wash under the hose.'

'It sounds dangerous, Captain. Isn't there anything else.'

'No. Do it that way, and do it now!'

'I'm surprised they didn't build the tank in there with a pipe so it could be filled from in here.'

The principle is to have as few openings as possible in a sealed bulkhead—and we can discuss the shortcomings of the designers some other time. Get that drill now!'

Captain Hegg waited stolidly while the endless seconds dragged by, but Robson could not control his growing concern. He kept glancing at his oxygen reserve indicator, tapping it nervously. The needle was almost to the empty mark. He jumped, startled, when a sudden shrill whining came from the silicon bronze wall. The whining slowed to a steady grinding noise and the black nose of the drill bit burst through the metal. It was jerked out and the hiss of incoming air ended abruptly as the tip of the hose plugged the opening. Liquid gushed from it.

'Do a good job of washing—and don't bother to look at your oxygen dial,' Hegg said. 'There is an unmarked safety reserve in all these tanks. We have more than enough time to do a complete job here.'

They scrubbed quickly with the heavy brushes, taking turns to wash the inaccessible parts of each other's suits. Robson had a stifling sensation that he knew was wholly imaginary and had to fight back an urge to scream when Hegg methodically washed the sample boxes, tilting them on end to get at their bottoms. More minutes dragged by as he went over them both, then carefully over the floor, with the sniffer. He found two suspect spots near the drain and had Robson scrub them while he finished clearing the area.

'All clean,' Hegg said, straightening up. 'And atmos­phere evacuation is complete. Start the air pump and I'll crack the door.'

Air hissed in, but even though the inner door was un­locked it stayed sealed, held in place by the difference in atmospheric pressure. Robson stood before it, clenching his sweat-damp fingers inside the armoured gloves, fighting to appear as calm as Captain Hegg at his side. The sound of incoming air stopped and the door opened before them. Robson fumbled at the latch to unseal his helmet. Hegg already had his off, placed carefully in the rack, before he stalked into the dome, straight to the white-faced Sonny Greer who stood against the far wall.

'Do you know what you did? Do you have any idea just what you did?'

The words surprised the captain, because that was not what he had meant to say at all. Nor had he intended vio­lence, yet his fist was clenched and his arm drawn back. Christ, he thought to himself, do I want to kill the kid? Toughened by experience on a dozen high-gravity worlds, his fist in that metal gauntlet would break the man's jaw, maybe his neck. It took more effort to relax than he had thought possible and he had to rub at the cable-hard mus­cles in his neck to force away the tension.

'I said that I was sorry, Captain. I mean that *

'Will you get this through your thick head? Being sorry won't help me if I'm dead. You have had expedition ex­perience before—earthside experience. What happens in the bloody Gobi desert or wherever you worked, if you don't fill the shower?'

'I '

'I'll tell you what happens. Nothing happens. Someone maybe stays dirty for a while but that is all. And what happens here if you forget to fill this shower? Two men can die, that is what can happen! Does the difference penetrate, mister bloody stupid schoolboy?'

Sonny Greer's face was red, then suddenly white with suppressed rage. Robson was watching from the doorway where he stood, his helmet in his hands.

'Easy on, Captain,' he said in a worried voice. 'There's no need for all of this.'

'No, the captain is right,' Sonny broke in, his voice shaking, whether from anger or other emotion was hard to tell. T deserved that. And I'd lose my temper myself if someone pulled a stunt like that on me.' Arkady watched but said nothing.

Captain Hegg turned his back and became involved in removing his pressure suit so that the others could not see his face. He felt that his lips were pulled back from his teeth like an animal ready to bite, and a small, cool part of his consciousness wondered at the unexpected ferocity of his reaction. Moving with unhurried precision, he forced himself to remove and stow the suit before he spoke. He was in control of himself again. Arkady was helping Robson with his armour in the lock chamber; they could hear what was being said but not interrupt.

'Listen, Greer. I have nothing personal against you, I hope you realize that.' His voice was normal.

'I know that Cap'n. You're rough but square.'

Hegg chose to ignore the hint of amusement in Sonny's tones.

'I'm glad you realize that, so you will understand that what I am going to do has no personal prejudice but is done by the book and for the good of the expedition as a whole. Have you ever heard of a planetary inefficiency rating?'

'No.'

'I didn't think you had. It is not a secret, but at the same time it is also not talked about much. The rules are simple. Two strikes and you are out. Out of the expedi­tion, out of Spatial Survey and out of a job. You have just had your first strike.'

'What do you mean. .. ?'

'I mean exactly what I say. When I send in the weekly report tomorrow I am going to give you a negative efficiency mark. This will go on your record. It is not good, but it is nothing to be ashamed of, a lot of men have had them. The importance of the rating is double—to drive home the importance of regulations to you and to be sure you do not endanger anyone else's life. If you make one more blunder I send for your replacement.'

'Have a heart, Cap'n, it wasn't all that bad! No one was hurt. I promise nothing like it will happen again. I'll try doubly hard if you don't report this.'

'You will try doubly hard because I do report it. If I had any brains I would have sent in the first report when you didn't check the bleed valve on Robson's suit. If I had done that this would be your second mark and you would be out—which is where you belong. I don't think you have it in you to be a good spacer.'

He turned and walked away, as far as he could in the limited confines of the dome. Sonny stared after him, chewing his lip.

'I am hungry,' Arkady said, walking across the dome and looking into the pot that was simmering slowly on the electric stove. 'The stew smells as good as ever. Anyone joining me?'

'A bowl for me, if you will, Arkady," Robson said, trying with slight success to keep a natural tone into his voice.

'Your heroic treatment seems to have worked,' Robson said looking out of the port to see if Sonny and Arkady were returning yet. 'Over two weeks now and your problem child has been good as gold, serious as a clam and atten­tive to his duty.'