"What mistakes? He's saved our lives again and again. I don't blame him- now-for wanting a rest from commanding. Deety, it's the hardest work possible even if you don't lift a finger. I never suspected it. I don't expect to sleep a wink tonight."

"We'll guard you!"

"Yes, we will!"

"Pipe down."

"Sorry, Ma'am."

"What mistakes did Zebbie make?"

"Well... he didn't crack down. You wasted no time in letting us know who is boss. You didn't let us argue; you slapped us down at once. I hate to say this but I think you have more talent for command than Zebadiah has."

"Deety, that's silly!"

"Is it? Napoleon wasn't tall."

"So I have a Napoleonic complex. Humph!"

"Captain, I'm going to ignore that because, under that order you made me log, I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't."

"Well... I know how not to get a Napoleonic complex. Deety, you're my second-in-command."

"But Pop is second-in-command."

"Wrong tense. 'Was'-he is no longer. As astrogator you may have inherited it anyhow; you can ask Zebbie-but in private; my decision is not subject to debate. Simply acknowledge it."

"I- Aye aye, Captain."

"You are now required to advise me whenever you think that I am about to make a serious mistake. You are also required to advise me on request."

"My advice isn't worth much. Look how I goofed a few minutes ago."

"That was before you were appointed second-in-command. Deety, actually holding an office makes a big difference."

Deety blinked and looked solemn, then said soberly, "Yes, I think it does. Yes, it does. I feel it, I do! Weird."

"Wait till you're captain. Eight times as weird,"

"Never. Pop wouldn't go for it, Zebadiah wouldn't, I won't-that's three votes."

"I said No right up to the point where I could not avoid it. Don't worry about it now. I'll boss and you'll advise me."

"In that case, Captain, I advise you to reconsider letting us guard you. After we eat and start scouting again, I advise that, even if we find the British quickly, instead of making contact, we should find a spot as deserted as this at the sunrise line and get a long day's sleep. We crew can get eight hours- I'll take the middle watch; the men can get eight hours solid each... and the Captain can get anything up to twelve."

"Advice noted. It's good advice. But that's not the program; we're going to sleep here." I told Deety what I had in mind. "When the car is restowed, we'll eat. If there is daylight left, we'll bathe before we eat. Otherwise in the morning."

"I'd rather hurry through eating and get a bath... since you tell me I'm going to be able to sleep with my husband. When I'm frightened I stink worse... and I've been much more scared than I've tried to let on."

"Into cold water after eating? Deety, you know better."

"Oh. I'll skip eating, if necessary, to bathe."

"Astrogator, we'll do it my way."

"Yes, Captain. But I stink, I do."

"We'll all stink by the time we restow this car and may wind up eating sandwiches in the dark because everything that we don't throw away is going to be inside with us and Gay locked and not a light showing by sundown." I cocked my head. "Hear something, Deety?"

Our men came back looking cheerful, with Zebbie carrying Jacob's rifle and wearing Jacob's pistol. Zebbie gave me a big grin. "Cap'n, there wasn't a durn thing wrong with me that Carter's Little Liver Pills couldn't have fixed. Now I'm right."

"Good."

"But just barely," agreed my husband. "Hilda-Captain Hilda my beloved- your complex schedule almost caused me to have a childish accident."

"I think that unnecessary discussion wasted more time than did my schedule. As may be, Jacob, I would rather have to clean up a 'childish accident' than have to bury you."

"But-"

"Drop the matter!"

"Pop, you had better believe it!" sang out Deety.

Jacob looked startled (and hurt, and I felt the hurt). Zebbie looked sharply at me, no longer grinning. He said nothing, went to Deety, reached for his rifle. "I'll take that, hon."

Deety held it away from him. "The Captain has not relieved me."

"Oh. Okay, we'll do it by the book." Zebbie looked at me. "Captain, I thoroughly approve of your doctrine of a continuous guard; I was too slack. It was my intention to relieve the watch. I volunteer to stand guard while you three eat-"

"-then I'll guard while Zeb eats," added Jacob. "We already worked it out. When do we eat? I could eat an ostrich with the feathers left on." He added, "Hilda my love, you're captain... but you're still cook, aren't you? Or is Deety the cook?"

(Decisions! How does the captain of a big ship cope?) "I've made changes. Deety remains astrogator but is now second-in-command and my executive officer. In my absence she commands. When I'm present, Deety's orders are my orders; she will be giving them to implement what I want done. Neither she nor I will cook. Uh, medical officer-" (Damn it, Sharpie, all those hours in the emergency room make you the only candidate. Or does it? Mmm-) "Zebbie, does 'command pilot' include paramedical training?"

"Yes. Pretty sketchy. What to do to keep the bloke alive until the surgeon sees him."

"You're medical officer. I am assistant medical officer when you need me- if I don't have something else that must be done."

"Captain, may I put in a word?"

"Please do, Chief Pilot."

"Sometimes you have to let the bloke die because there is something else that has to be done." Zebbie looked bleak. "Saw it happen. Does no good to worry ahead of time or grieve about it afterwards. You do what you must."

"So I am learning, Zebbie. Cook- Gentlemen, I've never eaten your cooking. You must assess yourselves. Which one of you is 'adequate'-"

"Ouch."

"Your wording, Zebbie. -and which one is inadequate?"

They backed and filled and deferred to each other, so I put a stop to it. "You will alternate as first and second cook until evidence shows that one is chief cook and the other assistant. Jacob, today you are first cook-"

"Good! I'll get busy at once!"

"No, Jacob." I explained what we were going to do. "While you two get

everything out of the car, Deety will teach me the rudiments of shotgun. Then I will take over guard duty and she can help unload. But keep your rifles loaded and handy, 'cause if I shoot, I'll need help in a hurry. Then, when we restow, I'll do it because I'm smallest and can stand up, mostly, behind the bulkhead. While Zebbie stands guard, and Deety and Jacob pass things in to me."

Jacob wasn't smiling-and I suddenly recognized his expression. I once had a dog who (theoretically) was never fed at the table. He would sit near my knee and look at me with that same expression. Why, my poor darling was hungry! Gut-rumble hungry. I had such a galloping case of nerves from becoming captain that I had no appetite.

"Deety, in the pantry back at Snug Harbor I noticed a carton of Milky Way bars. Did that get packed?"

"Certainly did! Those are Pop's-his vice and eventual downfall."

"Really? I don't recall seeing him eat one."

My husband said, "I haven't been eating them lately. All things considered, my dear-my dear Captain-I prefer you to candy bars."

"Why, thank you, Jacob! Will you share those candy bars? We understand that they are your personal property."

"They are not my personal property; they belong to all of us. Share and share alike."

"Yup," agreed Zebbie. "A perfect communism. 'From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.' With the usual communist dictator on top."

"Zebbie, I've been called everything from a black reactionary to a promiscuous old whore-but never before a communist dictator. Very well, you may address me as 'Comrade Captain.' When we come across those candy bars, everybody grab one for quick energy-unless somebody remembers where they were packed?"