The, Chief Officer is in charge of the first section of chasers and the Purser is in charge of the second- but they don't get any bonus even though the one on duty when the alarm sounds is by tradition and law the last man to enter the safety of the shelter. This hardly seems fair ... but it is considered their honor as well as their duty.
Other crewmen take turns in the radiation shelter and are equipped with mustering lists and billeting diagrams.
Naturally, service has been pret'ty skimpy of late, with so many of the crew pulled off their regular
duties in order to do just one thing and do it fast at the first jangle of the alarm. Most of these emergencyduty assignments have to be made from the stewards and clerks; engineers and communicators and such usually can't be spared. So staterooms may not be made up until late afternoon-unless you make your own bed and tidy your room yourself, as I had been doing-and serving meals takes about twice as long as usual, and lounge service is almost non-existent.
But of course the passengers realize the necessity for this temporary mild austerity and are grateful because it is all done for safety.
You think so? My dear, if you believe that, you will believe anything. You haven't Seen Life until you've seen a rich, elderly Earthman deprived of something he feels is his rightful due, because he figures he paid for it in the price of his ticket. I saw one man, perhaps as old as Uncle Tom and certainly old enough to know better, almost have a stroke. He turned purple, really purple and gibbered-all because the bar steward didn't show up on the bounce to fetch him a new deck of playing cards.
The bar steward was in armor at the time and couldn't leave his assigned area, and the lounge steward was trying to be three places at once and answer stateroom rings as well. This didn't mean anything to our jolly shipmate; he was threatening to sue the Line and all its directors, when his speech became incoherent.
Not everybody is that way, of course. Mrs. Grew, fat as she is, has been making her own bed and she is never impatient. Some others who are ordinarily inclined to demand lots of service have lately been making a cheerful best of things.
But some of them act like children with tantrums- which isn't pretty in children and is even uglier in grandparents.
The instant I followed the Captain into the radiation shelter I discovered just hçw efficient Tricorn service can be when it really matters. I was snatched- snatched like a ball, right out of the air-and passed from hand to hand. Of course I don't weigh much at one-tenth gravity, all there is at the main axis; but it is rather breath-taking. Some more hands shoved me into my billet, already stretched out, as casually and impersonally as a housewife stows clean laundry, and a voice called out, "Fries, Podkayne!" and another voice answered, "Check."
The spaces around me, and above and below and across from me, filled up awfully fast, with the crewmen working with the unhurried efficiency of automatic machinery sorting mail capsules. Somewhere a baby was crying and through it I heard the Captain saying, "Is that the last?"
"Last one, Ca~tain," I heard the Purser answer. "How's the time?'
"Two minutes thirty-seven seconds-and your boys can start figuring their payoff, because this one is no drill."
"I didn't think it was, Skipper-and I've won a small bet from the Mate myself." Then the Purser walked past my billet carrying someone, and I tried to sit up and bumped my head and my eyes bugged out.
The passenger he was carrying had fainted; her head lolled loosely over the crook of his arm. At first I couldn't tell who it was, as the face was a bright, bright red. And then I recognized her and I almost fainted. Mrs. Royer- Of course the first symptom of any bad radiation
exposure is emythema. Even with a sunburn, or just carelessness with an ultraviolet lamp, the first thing you see is the skin turning pink or bright red.
But was it possible that Mrs. Royer had been hit with such extremely sharp radiation in so very little
time that her skin had already turned red in the worst "sunburn" imaginable? Just from being last man in?
In that case she hadn't fainted; she was dead.
And if that was true, then it was equally true that the passengers who were last to reach the shelter must all have received several times the lethal dosage. They might not feel ill for hours yet; they might not die for days. But they were just as dead as if they were already stretched out still and cold.
How many? I had no way of guessing. Possibly- probably I corrected myself-all the first-class passengers; they had the farthest to go and were most exposed to start with.
Uncle Tom and Clark- I felt sudden sick sorrow and wished that I had not
been in the control, room. If my brother and Uncle Tom were dying, I didn't want to be alive myself.
I don't think I wasted any sympathy on Mrs. Royer. I did feel a shock of horror when I saw that flaming red face, but truthfully, I didn't like her, I thought she was a parasite with contemptible opinions, and if she had died of heart failure instead, I can't honestly say that it would have affected my appetite. None of us goes around sobbing over the millions and billions of people who have died in the past ... nor over those still living and yet to be born whose single certain heritage is death (including Podkayne Fries herself). So why should you cry foolish tears simply because you happen to be in the neighborhood when someone you don't like-despise, in fact-comes to the end of her string?
In any case, I did not have time to feel sorrow for Mrs. Royer; my heart was filled with grief over my brother and my uncle. I was sony that I hadn't been sweeter to Uncle Tom, instead of imposing on him and expecting him always to drop whatever he was doing to help me with my silly problems. I regretted
all the many times I had fought with my brother. After all, he was a child and I am a woman; "I should have made allowances.
Tears were welling out of my eyes and I almost missed the Captain's first words:
"Shipmates,' he said, in a voice firm and very soothing, "my crew and our guests aboard... this is not a drill; this is indeed a radiation storm.
"Do not be alarmed; we are all, each and every one of us, perfectly safe. The Surgeon has examined the personal radiation exposure meter of the very last one to reach the shelter. It is well within safe limits. Even if it were added to the accumulated exposure of the most exposed person aboard-who is not a passenger, by the way, but one of the ship's company-the total would still be inside the conservative maximum for personal health and genetic hygiene.
"Let me say it again. No one has been hurt, no one is going to be hurt. We are simply going to suffer a mild inconvenience. I wish I could tell you how long we will have to remain here in the safety of the shelter. But I do not know. It might be a few hours, it might be several days. The longest radiation storm of record lasted less than a week. We hope that Old Sol is not that bad-tempered this time. But until we receive word from Hermes Station that the storm is over, we will all have to stay inside here. Once we know a storm is over it usually does not take too long to check the ship and make sure that your usual comfortable quarters are safe. Until then, be patient and be patient with each other."