Angel,
who was still standing at attention. Quill's voice resumed its caustic
saccharinity. "But don't let that go to your head, Mister Gabriel. I
repeat: Where is your pretty red spaceman's suit?"

"If the Captain will recall," said Mike, "I had only twenty-four hours'
notice. I couldn't get a new wardrobe in that time. It'll be in on the
next rocket."

Captain Quill was silent for a moment, then he simply said, "Very well,"
thus dismissing the whole subject. He waved Mike the Angel to a seat.
Mike sat.

"We'll dispense with the formal introductions," said Quill. "Commander
Gabriel is our Engineering Officer. The rest of these boys all know each
other, Commander; you and I are the only ones who don't come from
Chilblains Base. You know Commander Jeffers, of course."

Mike nodded and grinned at Peter Jeffers, a lean, bony character who had
a tendency to collapse into chairs as though he had come unhinged.
Jeffers grinned and winked back.

"This is Lieutenant Commander von Liegnitz, Navigation Officer;
Lieutenant Keku, Supply; Lieutenant Mellon, Medical Officer; and Ensign
Vaneski, Maintenance. You can all shake hands with each other later;
right now, let's get on with business." He frowned, overshadowing his
eyes with those great, bushy brows. "What was I saying just before
Commander Gabriel came in?"

Pete Jeffers shifted slightly in his seat. "You were sayin', suh, that
this's the stupidest dam' assignment anybody evah got. Or words to that
effect." Jeffers had been born in Georgia and had moved to the south of
England at the age of ten. Consequently, his accent was far from
standard.

"I think, Mister Jeffers," said Quill, "that I phrased it a bit more
delicately, but that was the essence of it.

"The _Brainchild_, as she has been nicknamed, has been built at great
expense for the purpose of making a single trip. We are to take her, and
her cargo, to a destination known only to myself and von Liegnitz. We
will be followed there by another Service ship, which will bring us back
as passengers." He allowed himself a half-smile. "At least we'll get to
loaf around on the way back."

The others grinned.

"The _Brainchild_ will be left there and, presumably, dismantled."

He took the unlighted cigar out of his mouth, looked at it, and absently
reached in his pocket for a lighter. The deeply tanned young man who had
been introduced as Lieutenant Keku had just lighted a cigarette, so he
proffered his own flame