He heard a newcomer enter, and turned, even as a voice said, “Second watch reporting. Request permission to take over the bridge.”

Chessman said, “Hello, Kennedy. You on already? Seems like I just got here.” He muttered in self-contradiction. “Or that I’ve been here a month.”

Technician Jerome Kennedy grinned. “Of course, if you want to stay…”

Chessman grunted scorn at that.

Kennedy said, “Wasn’t that the Hot Pants Kid I just saw leaving?”

“That’s right. All done up like a mopsy out looking for business.”

Jerry Kennedy’s grin was back again, even as he gave the control dials a quick, half-interested glance. “You can’t say that about one of the women I love.”

“One? Who’s the other one?”

“Natalie, of course. Imagine, a year in space. Two good-looking women, sixteen men. You think we’ll ever make it?”

Joe Chessman snorted. “That’s why Mayer and Plekhanov made that ruling. No messing around. We’ll make it.’*

Kennedy sank into one of the acceleration chairs before the control bank. “I think Leonid’s sorry about that, now. Isobel’s been giving him the sloe-eye bit.”

Chessman snorted again. “Mayer’s too old for her and Plekhanov’s second in command.”

“Come, come, Joe,” Kennedy said in mock objection. “You don’t think our consecrated leader would play favorites, just because some ambitious curve gave out a little.”

Joe Chessman yawned and said, “I don’t know about Plekhanov, but in the same position, I sure as Zen would.”

Jerry Kennedy laughed.

Chessman said, “What’re they doing in the lounge?”

Kennedy looked at the screen, not expecting to see anything and seeing just that. “Still on their endless argument.”