Captain Daintree could not spare the time for an interview with the two officers of the advance party; he, with Dr. Passifern, was making his preparations and arrangements for the trip to the city, on which he and the Surgeon Commander would be accompanied by the Paymaster Lieutenant who was Daintree's secretary and by the Lieutenant of Marines. But Commander Griffin had time to spare. No sooner had Grimes and Kravisky mounted to the head of the ramp than the public address speakers were blatting their names, ordering them to report at once to the Commander's office.
They would have liked to have changed into more suitable attire, and Kravisky, in fact, did suggest that they do so. But that 'at once' at the end of the announcement had a nasty, peremptory ring to it, and Grimes knew Griffin far better than did the Surgeon Lieutenant. So they hurried through the ship, acutely conscious of the amused glances directed at them by the officers and ratings they encountered in the alleyways. Grimes heard one man mutter to his companion, "These officers don't half have it good! Looks like they've been on a bleeding holiday . . ."
And now the holiday, such as it it had been, was over. Griffin, seated behind his tidy desk, regarded them coldly, his fat face sullen under the sandy hair.
"So," he said. "So." There was an uneasy silence.
"So you lose an expensive re-entry vehicle. Even if it can be salvaged, there will be repairs. So you rejoin the ship looking like a pair of beach bums." His podgy hands shuffled papers. "There will have to be an official report, you know. Or didn't that occur to you?"
"It had occurred to me, sir," replied Grimes.
"I am pleased to hear it, although I was far from pleased with the verbal report you made to the Captain. There is one important thing that you must learn, Mr. Grimes, and that is that although an officer is automatically a gentleman he should not, repeat not, allow chivalry to interfere with his duty. If that woman had not admitted that she was to blame for the loss of the dynosoar, the consequences to you could have been extremely serious, affecting most adversely your future career in this Service. As it is . . ." He grinned suddenly, relaxed visibly. "As it is, I hope that they never salvage that archaic contraption. It's always been a pain in the neck to me. Sit down, both of you." He pushed a box of cigarettes across his desk. "Smoke. And now, before you go away to start putting things down on paper in your best officialese, tell me in your own words just what has been happening to you.
Grimes told the Commander the full story, omitting nothing. Griffin was amused but, at the same time, annoyed. He said, "I gain the impression that everybody on this bloody planet has a title, except the butler. And he's a robot."
"That's the very impression that we gained," Grimes told him. "And even their robot servitors are snobs."
"You can say that again," declared Kravisky, and told again the story of the superb meal that he had ordered but not received.
"And yet they want our help . . ." mused the Commander. "It must have hurt their pride to have to call in outsiders. Whatever sort of a jam they're in, it must be a serious one."
"Have you any idea what it is, sir?" asked Grimes.
"Haven't a clue. Oh, it's something medical, we all know that much. But a world like this must be healthy. This Lord Tarlton of Dunwich, he used to be the physician on the planet of that name, although then he was plain Dr. Tarlton. He was the head of their College of Medicine, and we all know how highly a Dunwich degree is regarded throughout the Galaxy. As a diagnostician, he was a recognized genius. It seems incredible that he should be incapable of handling this emergency, whatever it is. What do you think, Kravisky? As a doctor, I mean."
"I think the same as you do, sir."
"And these others . . . I've been doing my homework in the microfiled Encyclopedia Galactica Year Books. Baron Takada. A multimillionaire on his planet of birth, Kobe. Flew the coop when the local income tax collectors got too avaricious. But known as much for his metaphysical researches as for his wealth. Hereditary Chief Lobenga, onetime native, and ruler, of New Katanga. Stinking rich, of course, but made his own world too hot to hold him by his dabbling in the more unsavory varieties of black magic."
"And the Princess?" asked Grimes.
Griffin chuckled. "She seems to have made quite an impression on you. Just a spoiled popsy from Thuringia. Too much money and didn't like to have to plough any of it back into the welfare of the miners and factory hands. Sold out at a pretty profit and bought her way into the El Dorado Corporation. De Messigny? Not even a millionaire but had a name as a space yachtsman and freelance explorer. I suppose that these people wanted somebody who was more or less their breed of cat to captain their merchant ships."
"All these titles . . ." said Kravisky.
"Fair dinkum, most of 'em. I often think that all these stories about effete aristocrats are put out by the aristocrats themselves. After all, they have practiced selective breeding for centuries . . ." He leaned back in his chair. "Money snobbery, snobbery of birth . . . It makes a pretty picture, doesn't it? And you two were in the picture. I suppose that we all are, now." His manner stiffened. "But if there's to be any shore leave, which I doubt, I shall impress upon every bastard aboard this ship, every officer, every rating, that he is to wear his uniform with pride.
"And, talking of uniforms . . ."
"We'd better get changed, sir," said Grimes.
"You'd better," said Griffin.