pills for the mask."

The First shook his head. "That sounds like the kind of trick Parkinson
would pull, all right. I'll have to write it up and turn you both in to
the authorities when we hit Earth." He eyed Clayton. "What's your name?"

"Cartwright. Sam Cartwright," Clayton said without batting an eye.

"Volunteer or convicted colonist?"

"Volunteer."

The First looked at him for a long moment, disbelief in his eyes.

It didn't matter. Volunteer or convict, there was no place Clayton could
go. From the officer's viewpoint, he was as safely imprisoned in the
spaceship as he would be on Mars or a prison on Earth.

* * * * *

The First wrote in the log book, and then said: "Well, we're one man
short in the kitchen. You wanted to take Parkinson's place; brother,
you've got it--without pay." He paused for a moment.

"You know, of course," he said judiciously, "that you'll be shipped back
to Mars immediately. And you'll have to work out your passage both
ways--it will be deducted from your pay."

Clayton nodded. "I know."

"I don't know what else will happen. If there's a conviction, you may
lose your volunteer status on Mars. And there may be fines taken out of
your pay, too.

"Well, that's all, Cartwright. You can report to Kissman in the
kitchen."

The First pressed a button on his desk and spoke into the intercom. "Who
was on duty at the airlock when the crew came aboard last night? Send
him up. I want to talk to him."

Then the quartermaster officer led Clayton out the door and took him to
the kitchen.

The ship's driver tubes were pushing it along at a steady five hundred
centimeters per second squared acceleration, pushing her steadily closer
to Earth with a little more than half a gravity of drive.

* * * * *

There wasn't much for Clayton to do, really. He helped to select the
foods that went into the automatics, and he cleaned them out after each
meal was cooked. Once every day, he had to partially dismantle them for
a really thorough going-over.

And all the time, he was thinking.

Parkinson must be dead; he knew that. That meant the Chamber. And even
if he wasn't, they'd send Clayton back to Mars. Luckily, there was no
way for either planet to communicate with the ship; it was hard enough
to keep a beam trained on a planet without trying to hit such a
comparatively small thing as a ship.

But they would know about it on Ear