Chapter 9

As soon as Gant Nerley’s face disappeared from the viewpanel, Dusty turned to face Barbara. She was standing far to one side, out of range of the viewpanel, and stifling a giggle. She let it bubble through her fingers as soon as Dusty caught her eye.

“Funny as hell,” he said. “Me—I’m hysterical.”

Barbara sobered immediately. “Honest, Dusty. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing with you.”

“Why?” he demanded sharply.

“Because you really fooled that bird. Dusty Britton of The Space Patrol. Yes, I can navigate a ship.”

“I’m going to. Want out?”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Glad we’ve got the whole galaxy for you to make mistakes in.”

“Stop making fun,” he snapped. “Let’s try and think of something sensible, Barb. Too bad we haven’t time to take a run back to the city.”

“What good would that do?”

“Well, you could show ‘em that bauble you’re wearing and I could try the menslator out on ‘em, and maybe between us we could convince ‘em that there’s something more in this tale of mine than wind.”

“That’s an idea, but it’s out.”

“I know. But—”

“Dusty, you’ll have to carry it to Gant Nerley yourself.”

“Carry what?”

Barbara shook her head impatiently. “Think!” she cried. “Dusty, this license might be rescinded if we can show that Sol has evolved above the minimum level of acceptability.”

“Yes?”

“Then go in there with your head up and let ‘em know how we’re built.”

Dusty waved at the field of instruments on the control position. “Open my yap and let ‘em know how ignorant we are? We should have a couple of scientists along.”

Barbara shook her head. “No,” she said slowly. “One of the marks of a real scientist is that he usually considers that he knows a lot less than he does. You’re better off. You don’t know enough to confuse yourself. Besides, Dusty, you’re an actor.”

“Um—er—Jeeks! Hang on a mo’ will you? I’ve an idea.”

Dusty loped down the stairs to his car and opened the compartment behind the front seat. It was his emergency kit; it held his Dusty Britton uniform, the complete regalia of The Space Patrol complete with Dusty Britton ‘Blaster’ concealed against the days when Dusty found himself trapped in public and could not appear out of character.

He changed in the car and went back to the control room.

Barbara took one look at him and nodded slowly. “You’re a gaudy sight,” she said. “But maybe that’s what it takes.”

Dusty slapped the ‘Blaster’ at his hip. “I look authentic enough except for this hunk of hardware,” he said. “Hell, it isn’t even as useful as a dress sword.”

“Your revolver? Oh—still on my living room floor.”

Dusty unbelted the holster. “I shouldn’t have to go armed everywhere, should I?”

“I suppose not.”

“All right, then. How do I look?”

Barbara smiled thinly, “Dusty, no one on earth would ever accuse you of being anything but a Hollywood actor in that get-up. But a man from halfway across the Galaxy itself might not know about these things. You might be an Admiral of the Swiss Navy. You’re impressive-looking. Just don’t get pompous.”

“Just you remember that I’m Dusty Britton of The Space Patrol and don’t giggle when I start dishing it out.”

“I won’t. After all, I call myself an actress, you know.” She looked nervously at the viewpanel.

“Are you all right?” he demanded.

“Yes. I’m nervous but I’ll be all right.”

Dusty went over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Take a deep breath,” he commanded. She did. “Now let it out slowly.” She did that, too. “Now,” he said softly, slipping an arm around her and leading her to the stairway, “You come down below and relax. Pull yourself together, Barb. We’ll make it—somehow.”

“Got any ideas?”

“Not yet. But—”

Above, the voice of Gant Nerley came back. Dusty raced aloft and apologized for having been absent. Gant was nodding with admiration at something below the level of the view panel, probably something on the desk.

Gant looked up after a moment and said, “Dusty Britton, this is really a remarkable route. Truly fantastic. So well hidden, and yet right within our grasp all of these centuries! Well, you shall see, Dusty. And doubtless you will agree.”

“Okay,” said Dusty, “let’s get going.”

“Not so fast, young man. I’m waiting for the direction-finding stations to report so that I can determine where along this prospected route you lie.”

“We’re about two-thirds of the way out from the center, I believe,” offered Dusty.

“That’s a rather inaccurate generality. You know where you are and we know where we are, but we must know where we are with respect to one another before we can make contact. Now—” Gant’s voice stopped suddenly as something caught his eye above the lens of the viewpanel, and he looked over Dusty’s head, apparently, so intently that Dusty himself turned to see what Gant was staring at. He saw only instruments, and realized that Gant was looking at another panel-section above the one that communicated with Dusty’s panel.

“Um,” said Gant. “You would appear to lie in what we call ‘Sector G-18, Co-ordinate 307, Galactic Angle 215.86-plus degrees, South altitude-angle 1.017-minus degrees, Co-frame 9654.’ Now, Dusty, in your terms, where lies the Galactic Center?”

Dusty laughed. The tone of his laugh was half bitter and half a note of self-disparagement. “Sorry, Gant. We frame our reference from Terra, naturally.”

Dusty breathed a sigh of relief at having boned up on enough science to play his part convincingly.

“I do not quite understand what you mean,” returned Gant.

“We compute stellar positions in latitude from the angle above or below the equator of Terra, which we call ‘Declination’ and in longitude by their rise as the planet rotates, which we call ‘Right Ascension’. Therefore the so-called ‘Celestial equator’ is a projection of the Earth’s equator upon the sky, and the colures pass from celestial pole to celestial pole, which are projections of Terra’s axis. Now, since the Earth’s equator is tilted with respect to the Earth’s orbit, and the Earth’s orbit is tilted with respect to the Galactic Equator, I’ll be darned if I know how to explain in mutual terms. Oh, we assume that the galactic center is in a region of the sky we call ‘Sagittarius’ but that is meaningless.”