"Sit down. Lieutenant. Your craft is ready to take the scientists home?"
"Yessir, although they seem quite unhappy about it."
The Captain allowed a small smile to creep across his face. "They are civilians. You can't expect them to under- stand military matters."
The Lieutenant nodded.
"Of course, you understand such matters, don't you?" The Captain turned in his chair and reached for the small thermos resting on the shelf behind his desk.
"I believe I understand military matters, yes," the Lieu- tenant said to his back, then added, "sir."
"H'mm . . ." Taking two glasses from a desk drawer, the Captain asked, "Drink?"
"No, thank you, sir. I will be piloting the shuttle rocket."
"So? Tea upsets you?"
"Oh!" The Lieutenant was taken aback, a sight that pleased the Captain. "Well, yes, in that case. Thank you."
As he poured the steaming brew the Captain asked, "So you understand military matters, eh?"
"I think so. Sir."
'Then tell me"—he slammed the thermos on the desk hard enough to make the tea jump out of both glasses—"how do those Earthbound desk pilots expect me to defend a Soviet military installation that is defenseless? Heh?"
"I sir
"Look at this place!" The Captain waved a hand. "It's made of straw. One of the Americans' laser beams could slice 395 us apart like goat's cheese. How are we to defend ourselves against attack?"
"I didn't realize that an attack was imminent," the Lieutenant answered, keeping his hands carefully in his lap and not reaching for the tea.
"A commander must always assume that an attack is imminent! Learn that! Get it into your skull and into your blood! Never relax your guard!"
"Yessir."
The Captain glared at him for a moment, then pushed one of the glasses toward him. The Lieutenant quickly snatched at it.
"Why do you think they've ordered all the civilians off our little island in the sky? Heh? We are on alert status. At any moment the word may come that war has broken out. Do you have a family? Wife? Children?"
