"Of what, sir?"

"Signing the log. You weren't officer of the watch."

"Well, sir, the Captain seemed to expect it. I've signed a lot of logs and he's always approved them in the past."

"Hmm-- I'll speak to the Captain. Go below."

At the end of his next watch, having received no instructions, Max prepared the log and took it to the Captain. "Sir? Do you want to sign this? Or shall I?"

"Eh?" Blaine looked at it. "Oh, I suppose I had better. Always let a head of department do things his own way if possible. Remember that when you are a skipper, son." He signed it.

That settled it until the Captain started a habit of not being there, first for short periods, then for longer. The time came when he was absent at the end of the watch; Max phoned Mr. Simes. "Sir, the Captain isn't here. What do you want me to do?"

"So what? It's his privilege to leave the control room."

"But Kelly is ready to relieve and the log isn't signed. Shall I sign it? Or shall I phone him?"

"Phone him? Jumping jeepers, no! Are you crazy?"

"What are your orders, sir?"

Simes was silent, then answered, "Print his name, then sign under it 'By direction'--and after this use your head."

They changed to watch-and-watch for the last week. Max continued under the Captain; Kelly assisted Simes. Once the shift was made Blaine became meticulous about being present in the control room and, when Max started to make the first computation, gently pushed him aside. "I had better take over, lad. We're getting closer now."

So Max assisted him--and became horrifyingly aware that the Captain was not the man he must once have been. His knowledge of theory was sound and he knew all the short cuts--but his mind tended to wander. Twice in one computation Max had to remind him diplomatically of details. Yet the Old Man seemed unaware of it, was quite cheerful.

It went on that way. Max began to pray that the Captain would let the new Astrogator make the transition himself--much as he despised Simes. He wanted to discuss his misgivings with Kelly--there was no one else with whom it would have been possible--but Kelly was on the opposite watch with Simes. There was nothing to do but worry.

When the last day arrived he discovered that Captain Blaine neither intended to take the ship through himself nor to let Simes do it; he had a system of his own. When they were all in the Worry Hole the Captain said, "I want to show you all a wrinkle that takes the strain out of astrogating. With no reflections on our dear brother, Dr. Hendrix, while he was a great astrogator, none better--nevertheless he worked too hard. Now here is a method taught me by my own master. Kelly, if you will have the remote controls led out, please."

He had them seat themselves in a half circle, himself, Simes, and Max, around the saddle of the computer, with Kelly in the saddle. Each of them was armed with programming forms and Captain Blaine held the remote-control switches in his lap. "Now the idea is for us each to work a sight in succession, first me, then Mr. Simes, then Mr. Jones. That way we keep the data flowing without strain. All right, lads, start pitching. Transition stations everyone."

They made a dry run, then the Captain stood up. "Call me, Mr. Simes, two hours before transition. I believe you and Mr. Jones will find that this method gives you enough rest in the meantime."

"Yes, sir. But Captain--may I make a suggestion?"

"Eh? Certainly, sir."

"This is a fine system, but I suggest that Kelly be put in the astrogating group instead of Jones. Jones is not experienced. We can put Kovak in the saddle and Lundy on the book."

Blaine shook his head. "No. Accuracy is everything, sir, so we must have our best operator at the computer. As for Mr. Jones, this is how he must get experience--if he gets rattled, you and I can always fill in for him." He started to leave, then added, "But Kovak can alternate with Kelly until I return. Mustn't have anyone getting tired, that way mistakes are made."

"Aye aye, sir."

Simes said nothing more to Max. They started working sights, alternately, using written programming on printed forms. The sights were coming in on a twenty-minute schedule, giving each of them forty minutes for a problem if he cared to take it. Max began to think that the Captain's method did have its points. Certainly Dr. Hendrix had worked himself to death-- ships did not wear out but men did.

He had plenty of time to work not only his own problems, but those of Simes. The data came out orally and there was nothing to keep Max from programming Simes' sights in his head and checking on what went into the computer. So far as he could see Simes was doing all right--though of course there was no real strain involved, not yet.

They ate sandwiches and drank coffee where they sat, leaving their seats only for five minutes or so at a time. Captain Blaine showed up twenty minutes early. He smiled and said cheerily, "Everyone happy and relaxed? Now we really get down to it. I have just time for a cup of coffee."

A few minutes later he sat down and took over the control switches from Simes. The sights were coming through on a ten-minute schedule now, still ample time. Max continued to work them all, his own on paper and the others in his head. He was always through in time to catch the data for the next sight, program it mentally and check translations as Lundy thumbed the book. It gave him a running picture of how closely they were in the groove, how much hunting they were having to do in approaching their invisible target. It seemed to him that Simes tended to over-correct and that the Captain was somewhat optimistically under-correcting, but neither was so far out as to endanger the ship.

Maybe he was wrong about the Captain--the Old Man seemed to steady down when it mattered. His own corrections, he was glad to see, the Captain applied without question.

After more than an hour with transition forty-five. minutes away Captain Blaine looked up and said, "All right, boys, we're getting close. Slam them to us as fast as you can now."

Smythe and Kovak, with Noguchi and Bennett running for them, slipped into high gear; data poured out in a steady stream. Max continued to work every sight, programming his own in his head and calling off figures faster than he wrote them down. He noticed that Simes was sweating, sometimes erasing and starting over. But the figures Simes called out agreed with what Max thought they should be, from his own mental programming. Captain Blaine seemed relaxed, though he had not speeded up materially and sometimes was still using the computer when Max was ready to pour his sight into it.

At one point Simes spoke too rapidly, slurring his figures, Lundy promptly said, "Repeat, sir!"

"Confound it! Clean out your ears!" But Simes repeated. The Captain glanced up, then bent back to his own problem. As soon as the computer was free Captain Blaine called his own figures to Lundy. Max had already set up the Captain's sight in his mind, was subconsciously listening while watching Simes.

An alarm bell rang in his mind. "Captain! I don't check you!"

Captain Blaine stopped. "Eh?"

"That program is wrong, sir."

The Captain did not seem angry. He simply handed his programming board to Simes. "Check me, sir."

Simes glanced quickly at the figures. "I check you, sir!"

Blaine said, "Drop out, Jones. Mr. Simes and I will finish."

"But--"

"Drop out, Mister!"

Max got out of the circle, seething inside. Simes' check of the Captain's set up hadn't meant anything, unless Simes had listened to and remembered (as Max had) the data as it came in. The Captain had transposed an eight and a three in the fifth and sixth decimal places--the set up would look okay unless one knew the correct figures. If Simes had even bothered to check it, he added bitterly.