"Well," she said, "that's what you intended to do to the captain." He grinned ruefully. "Darn it. I did look forward to Casting him Off." "Oh, well," his wife said, "I guess we can't have everything." "True, my dear," said John. "It was very thoughtful of you." "I wanted to be sure that my husband had the best." "I know you did." "Well," she said. "I guess I may as well begin." "Yes," he said. "Have you any suggestions, honey?" "No," he said. "I'll leave it all up to you." "All right." She walked to the dresser and picked up a pair of pliers. She crossed to him. She had already removed his shoes while he was unconscious. "I think," she said, "I'll take the big toe first." "Whatever you like, my dear." After a moment, she said, "My, I didn't know it was going to be so hard to pull a few little old toenails." After she had finished with his left foot, she poured alcohol over it. Then she had to wait for him to regain consciousness. "Honey?" she asked. "Yes?" "You didn't scream very much." "That's all right," he said. "You're doing fine." "All right," she said. "If you're satisfied. I guess I may as well start on the other foot.... Oh, John?" "Yes, dear?" "Would you like for me to fix you a cup of tea before we go on?" "I don't think so. But it's a nice thought." "Honey?" "Yes?" "You asked what that fuel oil was for, remember?" "Yes." "Well, when I finish this," she said, "I'm going to pour it over you and light it." "Helen," he said, "I married one of the ... cleverest ... women ... in the ... system." "There," she said, "I thought I'd _never_ get that one." * * * * * The captain got very cramped, sitting there. It was late. He expected it was about time for the assembly bell to ring. He stood up. No one had come down his corridor all day, and he felt very pleased with his acumen in selecting it. There wasn't nearly as much noise as there had been earlier; people were thinning out. He hoped there wouldn't be many left in the fight for the assembly. He heard, interrupting his reverie, a thin, shrill shriek, drifting down the corridor from his left. Then, looking, he saw a crewman running toward him. He tightened his grip on his infantry sword. Then he relaxed. It was all right. The man had no arms. The crewman came to a stop in front of him. "Oh? Captain. Good afternoon, sir." "Good afternoon. Careful there. You'll get blood on my uniform." "Sorry, sir." "How are things going, back there?" "Pretty slow ... last ... couple hours." "Getting pretty weak, eh?" "Yes, sir. Mind if ... I ... sit down?" "Not at all. Make yourself at home." "Thank ... you, sir." He sat down. "My," he said, "I'm tired." "Loss of blood, probably. Listen, old fellow. Do you think you've about quit suffering, now?" "Oh, yes," the crewman said. "Scarcely feel ... a thing any more. Numb." "Well, in that case, no sense in keeping you from your Reward." "Not ... a bit."