Automatically, he scanned: "No I'm not! Listen to me. How do you think it feels to be in the Up-and-Out with the crew tied-for-space all around you? How do you think it feels to watch them sleep? How do you think I like scanning, scanning, scanning month after month, when I can feel the pain-of-Space beating against every part of my body, trying to get past my Haberman blocks? How do you think I like to wake the men when I have to, and have them hate me for it? Have you ever seen habermans fight--strong men fighting, and neither knowing pain, fighting until one touches _Overload_? Do you think about that, Luci?" Triumphantly he added: "Can you blame me if I cranch, and come back to being a man, just two days a month?" "I'm not blaming you, darling. Let's enjoy your cranch. Sit down now, and have a drink." He was sitting down, resting his face in his hands, while she fixed the drink, using natural fruits out of bottles in addition to the secure alkaloids. He watched her restlessly and pitied her for marrying a scanner; and then, though it was unjust, resented having to pity her. Just as she turned to hand him the drink, they both jumped a little as the phone rang. It should not have rung. They had turned it off. It rang again, obviously on the emergency circuit. Stepping ahead of Luci, Martel strode over to the phone and looked into it. Vomact was looking at him. The custom of Scanners entitled him to be brusque, even with a Senior Scanner, on certain given occasions. This was one. Before Vomact could speak, Martel spoke two words into the plate, not caring whether the old man could read lips or not: "Cranching. Busy." He cut the switch and went back to Luci. The phone rang again. Luci said, gently, "I can find out what it is, darling. Here, take your drink and sit down." "Leave it alone," said her husband. "No one has a right to call when I'm cranching. He knows that. He ought to know that." The phone rang again. In a fury, Martel rose and went to the plate. He cut it back on. Vomact was on the screen. Before Martel could speak, Vomact held up his Talking Nail in line with his Heartbox. Martel reverted to discipline: "Scanner Martel present and waiting, sir." The lips moved solemnly: "Top emergency." "Sir, I am under the wire." "Top emergency." "Sir, don't you understand?" Martel mouthed his words, so he could be sure that Vomact followed. "I .... am .... under .... the .... wire. Unfit, for ... Space!" Vomact repeated: "Top emergency. Report to your central tie-in." "But, sir, no emergency like this--" "Right, Martel. No emergency like this, ever before. Report to tie-in." With a faint glint of kindliness, Vomact added: "No need to de-cranch. Report as you are." This time it was Martel whose phone was cut out. The screen went gray. He turned to Luci. The temper had gone out of his voice. She came to him. She kissed him, and rumpled his hair. All she could say was, "I'm sorry."