Gant Nerley grunted. "If they're not keeping a close eye on the barytrine field detector, so they can shut off their own equipment when it fails, I'll revoke their licenses! They must be looking at the temporal field, or at least keeping watch." "We hope." Gant nodded thoughtfully. "Now," he said, "this being an emergency, I'll open their course-plan so that I can direct you through space. Don't turn off the viewpanel, Dusty. I'll be back in a few minutes." IX As soon as Gant Nerley's face disappeared from the viewpanel, Dusty turned to face Barbara. She was standing far to one side, out of range of the viewpanel, and stifling a giggle. She let it bubble through her fingers as soon as Dusty caught her eye. "Funny as hell," he said. "Me--I'm hysterical." Barbara sobered immediately. "Honest, Dusty. I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing with you." "Why?" he demanded sharply. "Because you really fooled that bird. Dusty Britton of The Space Patrol. Yes, I can navigate a ship." "I'm going to. Want out?" "I wouldn't miss this for the world. Glad we've got the whole galaxy for you to make mistakes in." "Stop making fun," he snapped. "Let's try and think of something sensible, Barb. Too bad we haven't time to take a run back to the city." "What good would that do?" "Well, you could show 'em that bauble you're wearing and I could try the menslator out on 'em, and maybe between us we could convince 'em that there's something more in this tale of mine than wind." "That's an idea, but it's out." "I know. But--" "Dusty, you'll have to carry it to Gant Nerley yourself." "Carry what?" Barbara shook her head impatiently. "Think!" she cried. "Dusty, this license might be rescinded if we can show that Sol has evolved above the minimum level of acceptability." "Yes?" "Then go in there with your head up and let 'em know how we're built." Dusty waved at the field of instruments on the control position. "Open my yap and let 'em know how ignorant we are? We should have a couple of scientists along." Barbara shook her head. "No," she said slowly. "One of the marks of a real scientist is that he usually considers that he knows a lot less than he does. You're better off. You don't know enough to confuse yourself. Besides, Dusty, you're an actor." "Um--er--Jeeks! Hang on a mo' will you? I've an idea." Dusty loped down the stairs to his car and opened the compartment behind the front seat. It was his emergency kit; it held his Dusty Britton uniform, the complete regalia of The Space Patrol complete with Dusty Britton 'Blaster' concealed against the days when Dusty found himself trapped in public and could not appear out of character. He changed in the car and went back to the control room. Barbara took one look at him and nodded slowly. "You're a gaudy sight," she said. "But maybe that's what it takes."