"Very good, sir." Kelly stood up.
When the Chief Computerman had gone Hendrix turned to his desk, hauled out a crewman's personal record. To Max he said harshly, "Is this yours?"
Max looked at it and gulped. "Yes, sir."
Dr. Hendrix held his eye. "Well? How good a picture is it of your career thus far? Any comment you want to make?"
The pause might have been a dozen heart beats, though to Max it was an endless ordeal. Then a catharsis came bursting up out of him and he heard himself answering, "It's not a good picture at all, sir. It's phony from one end to the other."
Even as he said it, he wondered why. He felt that he had kicked to pieces his one chance to achieve his ambition. Yet, instead of feeling tragic, he felt oddly relaxed.
Hendrix put the personal record back on his desk. "Good," he answered. "Very good. If you had given any other answer, I would have run you out of my control room. Now, do you want to tell me about it? Sit down."
So Max sat down and told him. All that he held back was Sam's name and such details as would have identified Sam. Naturally Dr Hendrix noticed the omission and asked him point blank.
"I won't tell you, sir."
Hendrix nodded. "Very well. Let me add that I shall make no attempt to identify this, ah, friend of yours-- if by chance he is in this ship."
"Thank you, sir."
There followed a considerable silence. At last Hendrix said, "Son, what led you to attempt this preposterous chicanery? Didn't you realize you would be caught?"
Max thought about it. "I guess I knew I would be, sir--eventually. But I wanted to space and there wasn't any other way to do it." When Hendrix did not answer Max went on. After the first relief of being able to tell the truth, he felt defensive, anxious to justify himself--and just a little bit irked that Dr. Hendrix did not see that he had simply done what he _had_ to do--so it seemed to Max. "What would you have done, sir?"
"Me? How can I answer that? What you're really asking is: do I consider your actions morally wrong, as well as illegal?"
"Uh, I suppose so, sir."
"Is it wrong to lie and fake and bribe to get what you want? It's worse than wrong, it's undignified!"
Dr. Hendrix chewed his lip and continued. "Perhaps that opinion is the sin of the Pharisees .... my own weakness. I don't suppose that a young, penniless tramp, such as you described yourself to be, can afford the luxury of dignity. As for the rest, human personality is a complex thing, nor am I a judge. Admiral Lord Nelson was a liar, a libertine, and outstandingly undisciplined. President Abraham Lincoln was a vulgarian and nervously unstable. The list is endless. No, Jones, I am not going to pass judgment; you must do that yourself. The authorities having jurisdiction will reckon your offenses; I am concerned only with whether or not you have the qualities I need."
Max's emotions received another shock. He had already resigned himself to the idea that he had lost his chance. "Sir?"
"Don't misunderstand me." Hendrix tapped the forged record. "I don't like this. I don't like it at all. But perhaps you can live down your mistake. In the meantime, I badly need another watch officer; if you measure up, I can use you. Part of it is personal, too; your uncle taught me, I shall try to teach you."
"Uh, I'll try, sir. Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I'm not even feeling particularly friendly to you, at the moment. Don't talk with anyone. I'll ask the Captain to call a guild meeting and he and Mr. Simes and I will vote on you. We'll make you a probationary apprentice which will permit the Captain to appoint you to the temporary rank of merchant cadet. The legalities are a bit different from those of the usual route as you no doubt know."
Max did not know, though he was aware that officers sometimes came up "through the cargo hatch"--but another point hit him. "Mr. Simes, sir?"
"Certainly. By this procedure, all the astrogators you serve with must pass on you."
"Uh, does it have to unanimous, sir?"
"Yes."
"Then-- Well, sir, you might as well forget it. I mean, I appreciate your willingness to, uh, but ..."His voice trailed off.
Dr. Hendrix smiled mirthlessly. "Hadn't you better let me worry about that?"
"Oh. Sorry, sir."
"When it has been logged, I'll notify you. Or 'when and if,' if you prefer."
"Yes, sir." Max stood up. "Sir? There were, uh, a couple of other things I wondered about."
Hendrix had turned back to his desk. He answered, "Well?" somewhat impatiently.
"Would you mind telling me--just for my curiosity--how you caught me?"
"Oh, that. No doubt you've given yourself away to several people. I'm sure Kelly knows, from the subjects he avoided. For example, I once heard Lundy mention to you Kiefer's Ritz on Luna. Your answer, though noncommittal, implied that you did not really know what dive he was talking about--and it is impossible for a spaceman not to know that place, its entrance faces the east lock to the space port."
"Oh."
"But the matter came to the top of my mind in connection with this." He again indicated the false record. "Jones, I deal in figures and my mind can no more help manipulating them for all the information they contain than I can help breathing. This record says that you went to space a year before your uncle retired--I remember what year that was. But you told me that your uncle had trained you at home and your performance bore out that statement. Two sets of alleged facts were contradictory; need I add that I was fairly sure of the truth?"
"Oh. I guess I wasn't very smart?'
"No, you weren't. Figures are sharp things, Jones. Don't juggle them, you'll get cut. What was the other matter?"
"Well, sir, I was kind of wondering what was going to happen to me. I mean about _that_."
"Oh," Hendrix answered indifferently, "that's up to the Stewards & Clerks. My guild won't take action concerning a disciplinary matter of another guild. Unless, of course, they call it 'moral turpitude' and make it stick."
With that faint comfort Max left, Nevertheless he felt easier than he had at any time since he had signed on. The prospect of punishment seemed less a burden than constantly worrying about getting caught. Presently he forgot it and exulted in the opportunity--at last!--to take a crack at astrogator.
He wished he could tell Sam ... or Ellie.
12 HALCYON
The probationary appointment was logged later that same day. The Captain called him in, swore him in, then congratulated him and called him "Mister" Jones. The ceremony was simple, with no spectator but Hendrix and the Captain's secretary.
The commonplaces attendant on the change were, for a while, more startling to Max than the promotion itself. They started at once. "You had better take the rest of the day to shake down, Mr. Jones," the Captain said, blinking vaguely. "Okay, Doc?"
"Certainly, sir."
"Good. Bennett, will you ask Dumont to step in?"
The Chief Passengers' Steward was unblinkingly unsurprised to find the recent steward's mate third a ship's officer. To the Captain's query he said, "I was planning to put Mr. Jones in stateroom B-014, sir. Is that satisfactory?"
"No doubt, no doubt."
"I'll have boys take care of his luggage at once."
"Good. You trot along with Dumont, Mr. Jones. No, wait a moment. We must find you a cap." The Captain went to his wardrobe, fumbled around. "I had one that would do here somewhere."
Hendrix had been standing with his hands behind him. "I fetched one, Captain. Mr. Jones and I wear the same size, I believe."
"Good. Though perhaps his head has swelled a bit in the past few minutes. Eh?"
Hendrix grinned savagely. "If it has, I'll shrink it." He handed the cap to Max. The wide gold strap and sunburst the Astrogator had removed; substituted was a narrow strap with tiny sunburst surrounded by the qualifying circle of the apprentice. Max thought it must be old insignia saved for sentimental reasons by Hendrix himself. He choked up as he mumbled his thanks, then followed Dumont out of the Captain's cabin, stumbling over his feet.