"I see. The report would put Van in the soup, too, Chief." "I suppose." "That'll lose you _two_ good men." "Will it?" Silence for over an hour, and then Horse said, "Before the company filled you full of that discipline garbage, were you human, Sam? Did you dream of a better world, a normal world, a world with women?" "Some things we outgrow," I said. "I'm doing exactly what I want to do." Horse sighed, and the silence grew again. I was dozing the next time he opened his mouth. "It's not necessary to stick it to Van, too, is it, Chief?" "I record," I said. "I don't judge." "It wasn't necessary to record my request. Don't give me that, Chief." "In my opinion, it was necessary." "Okay. Would you check my co-ordinates?" He'd caught me in a nap, and I didn't think of the time. It was a routine request in a routine voice and I rose without thinking and went over to the scanner. I put my eye to the eye-piece and saw _her_. A dark girl, without clothes, more beautifully shaped than any picture I'd ever carried as an adolescent. And she was waving! A trembling possessed me, but I fought it. I looked up instantly at Horse, and I said, "You've increased the magnification about three million times beyond the requirements of the co-ordinate check. How do you expect me to substantiate your findings?" Horse was smiling. "I know, I know. What'd you see, Chief?" "Nothing. There was nothing to see. This will be recorded, too, Collins." Collins was still smiling. "You'll record there was nothing to see?" "I certainly will, and that you had the electronic scanner up to its full magnification for no apparent reason. That should finish you, Collins." "Chief, if you saw nothing through that scanner, you're already finished. I don't want to stay in a service that would make something like you out of me." "You haven't the stuff to become something like me," I told him, and went back to my chair. "The service," he said gently, "is looking for planets or planetoids that will support our kind of life. And you've just seen our kind of life. And you're not going to report it. That's going to be your cross. Because, Slide Rule, I'm not going to report it, either. That's my secret, back there. That's _mine_." "Whatever it was you think you saw, you'll never see it again, Collins," I told him. "This is the only line from Mars to Jupiter and you're going to be out of work once we're back to base." "You think," he said. "You hope. You pray." I wonder what he thought I'd been doing in my twelve years with Gideon? I wonder if he thought I was so stupid I wouldn't have a few lines to the right people in twelve years? Did he think only the noisy ones could play this political game? Once out of asteroid alley, I dozed. And dozing, dreamed of that black haired temptress waving, dreamed of her like some pimply-faced young idiot. Gad, if a man couldn't discipline himself after _my_ training.... I wakened to find Horse nodding over his board.