By sheer coincidence, just at that moment the air stopped hissing, the music stopped playing, and the tumult that had been flooding the room died away to a whisper. In a brief, horrible silence I heard Cap Hanson gasp, "Lanse! Lanse!" and heard the incredulous snort of Inspector Cooper. "What? _You_ caused this, Lieutenant?" Biggs' pale eyes shifted, and he twisted his lanky frame into a pretzel. "R-reckon I did, sir. Couldn't seem to get things straightened out in the turret, so I--I went down to the control room, and--and I guess I must have turned the wrong knobs or switches or something." His excuse dwindled into silence. But Cooper did not. Cooper loosed a blat like a robot wired for newscasting. "Wrong knobs! Wrong switches! Indeed, sir--" he swung to me, sweating painfully and quivering like an electroscope in a pitchblende mine. "Sparks, can you do anything about this--this disgraceful mess?" I couldn't meet Biggs' eyes, nor could I meet those of Cap Hanson. I just nodded slowly. "I think so, sir." "Then get to work! And as for you, Lieutenant--" His eyes burned Biggs' pale, embarrassed face, "It will not now be necessary to determine whether or not you are versed in Safety Code practices. You have demonstrated very well that you are not yet capable of assuming the rank and duties of a commanding officer. Your butter-fingered handling of a simple, routine test has resulted in the most disgusting contretemps it has ever been my lot to witness!" Cap Hanson said, "But--but look, Inspector--he's only a boy! Anybody can make a little mistake. Give him a chance to--" "There is no place for 'boys'," snorted Cooper, "on the bridge of space-going vessels. Lieutenant Biggs has possibilities, yes. But I shall suggest to the S.S.C.B. that he be given another year of intensive training--under an old, accomplished spaceman; yourself, Captain Hanson--that he may learn resourcefulness, coolness, how to act under stress of emergency! "And now, gentlemen, I shall retire until we reach Mars Central. Sparks, for God's sake quiet this bedlam as soon as possible!" And he stalked from the bridge with as much dignity as a man can muster with hands clapped over a pair of sweat-dripping ears. I went below. It was a mess, but not an impossible one. I got it straightened out in fifteen or twenty minutes. And by the time things were back to normal, we were warping into the cradle-lists at Mars Central Spaceport. * * * * * Afterward, everybody was sympathetic. Bud Wilson said, "Too bad, Biggs! But you'll get another chance." And he went out. Dick Todd said, "Aw, the hell with it, Lanse. You were just a little excited, that's all--" And he left, too. And that left Biggs and the skipper and me alone in the turret. Biggs squirmed and said meekly, "I--I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be such an idiot. But--well, after all, I am young. And I haven't had your experience."