... pluckt from us all hope of due reliefe, That earst us held in love of lingering life; Then hopelesse hartlesse, gan the cunning thiefe Perswade us die, to stint all further strifes To me he lent this rope, to him a rustie knife. How could Wyckoff have felt that life was too much to bear? The thought was so simple once it seemed right.... What if some little paine the passage have, That makes fraile flesh to feare the bitter wave? Is not short paine well borne, that brings long ease.... (The door to Sam's cabin opened and closed again.) He would have to talk like an angel or a devil to stop Sam from another try. But Sam was one of his people and he'd got them all into this. _His_ responsibility ... his. * * * * * Tim had a sudden guilty feeling he had dozed off when he heard the door open and close for the third time. The doctor must have gone. He came out of the darkroom and re-entered Wyckoff's. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bunk regarding his bandaged wrist wryly. "All fixed up?" "I expect so." "Was it bad?" "No. He didn't even have to take stitches--just little tape strips." The wry look became a grimace. "Said I was lucky it didn't get the artery. I can't even cut my wrist the right way." Tim grinned. If Sam's sense of humor was returning, it might not be such a hard job. "Aren't you supposed to be lying down?" "I don't think so." "Well, you lie down anyhow and let's talk about things." Sam lowered himself obediently and Daneshaw went on. "First I want to know if you're in any trouble? Had a row with anybody? Think you've done something you wish you hadn't?" "Well ... no." "Good. Now what's your job on board and what do you do after we land?" "Just a kitchen helper here. When we get there, I'll run the control panels for some remotracs--planting and harvesting, you know." "Not a very exciting set of jobs. How's the kitchen." The slender man bristled, looked less frail. "They don't like the way I peel wathros. Mrs. Kaplan says I peel all the vitamins off. She says you can't trust a man with a peeler anyhow," he added fiercely. "And I hate wathros no matter how you peel them!" Tim sighed. "You're in a rut, Sam. You've worn out that job. And you and Mrs. Kaplan are evidently wearing out each other. Do you want to change jobs?" "Oh, I don't know. I don't mean anything against Mrs. Kaplan. She does a good piece of work." "So should you, and wathro peeling's not necessarily it." Tim mused for a moment. "Are you sure the doc didn't say anything about your staying in bed?" "No. I'm sure he didn't even mention it." "It probably never occurred to him you'd do anything else. Anyhow I think this would be a good time for a little excursion. Have you been all over the ship?" "Not since the big tour before blast-off."