The Hillbilly said in a small voice, "As second-in-command I am required to advise the Captain-"

"Certain circumstances. Speak up."

"Captain, I know very little about astrogation."

"That's why you have the job. You will seek advice from Deety as needed, both of you seek advice from Zeb when necessary-and if all three of you are stumped, I will tackle it and be responsible for mistakes. No burden, the

Captain is always responsible for all mistakes. When in doubt, do not hesitate to consult me.

"Deety, you have not driven this car in atmosphere. But you are a competent, decisive, and skillful driver of duos"-I am, Pop?-you're years late in saying so-"and we have come this high to give you time to acquaint yourself with it. I placed Zeb by you to coach you and, in time, to report to me that you are fully qualified." Pop smiled. "Fortunately, should you get into trouble, we have programs that will get you out instantly such as 'Gay Bounce'-"

Gay bounced.

Pop did not notice but I had my eye on radar distance since learning that I was responsible. Pop, who invented those safety scrams? Think hard. Hint:

One of your offspring.

"Zeb, you know the knobs and scales et cetera of the controls we refer to as the verniers but you have not had time to practice. Now you will practice until you can handle anything, by eye, or by clicks in the dark. Permit me to pay you this compliment: You will give yourself your own final examination. When you feel ready, tell me and I will have the Astrogator log it.

"Advice to future captains-I will not be happy until all are competent in each of four seats, and all feel easy in all twenty-five possible arrangements-"

"Twenty-four, Pop," I blurted out. I hastily added, "Sorry, Captain-'twentyfive."

Pop has a terrible time with kitchen arithmetic; it has been so long since he has done any. He will pick up a hand computer to discover 2x3=6; I've seen him do it.

He stared at me, lips moving slightly. At last he said, "Chief Pilot."

"Captain."

"You are ordered to correct me when I make a mistake. 'Twenty-four' permutations, certainly."

"Sir, may the Chief Pilot have more information before she answers RogerWilco?"

"Fire away!"

"Captain, what categories of mistakes?"

"Eh? Any sort! A mistake is a mistake. Daughter, are you baiting me?"

"No, Captain. I am unable to acknowledge your order as I do not understand it. 'A mistake is a mistake' is semantically null. If I see you about to sugar your coffee twice shall I-"

"Tell me! Of course."

"If I see you treating your wife unjustly shall I-"

"Wait a moment! Even if I did or have-which I decline to stipulate-it is not proper for you to interfere."

"Yes, sir. We've established that there are two sets. But the Captain has not defined the sets and the Chief Pilot lacks authority to do so. May I resPectfully suggest that the Captain take notice of the quandary, then reframe the order at a time of his choosing... and in the meantime permit the Chief Pilot not to correct the Captain's mistakes?"

Zebadiah winked at me with his head turned so that I saw it but Pop could not.

Pop fumed, complaining that I wasn't showing common sense and, worse, I had broken his train of thought. He finally got around to a definition at about 8th grade level: I was to correct him only in errors involving figures or related symbols such as angles. (On your own head be it, Pop!) I gave him Roger-Wilco.

"In fact," he went on expansively, "it may be my duty to see that this training course is completed before, with great relief, I turn this seat over to my successor."

(I started figuring how many children I would have by then and decided to look for ways to hike up the "white mutiny.")

"Captain?"

"Astrogator."

"This advice concerns a mistake that could occur in the near future. I assume that the Captain has the conn?"

"Hilda, I have the conn. Speak up."

"We are falling, sir. I advise placing us in orbit."

I sighed with relief, as radar distance I was beginning to think of as Habove-G and did not like our closing rate.

Pop said, "Surely, put us in orbit. Take the conn and do it. Good practice. Deety can show you how. Or Zeb."

"Aye aye, sir. I have the conn. Chief Pilot, keep her level with respect to planet."

"Roger. Level now."

"Copilot, add speed vector positive axis L three point six klicks per second."

"Uh... set!"

"Hold it!" Pop unbelted, steadied himself by Zebadiah's chair, checked the setting. "Okay. Execute!"

"Excuse me, Captain," Zebadiah said, "but was that order directed at me or the Astrogator?"

Pop opened his mouth-then turned red. "Astrogator, I am satisfied with your solution and the setting. Please have the maneuver executed."

"Aye aye, sir. Execute!"

What Pop planned seemed reasonable. "So far we have used juice, supplies, and four days' time, and have merely established that there are at least two analogs of our universe, one quantum and ten quanta away on Tau axis. The latter has beasts-wogs-that are not the vermin we fled from, but-according to Hilda-closely related. To me, this makes Tau axis not our best place to seek a new home.

"Zebadiah has suggested that we sample the universes available by rotation rather than translation-six axes taken four at a time-before we search Teh axis. Let me remind you that we could die of old age searching Teh axis alone. I will decide but I will listen to arguments pro or con."

Twenty-three minutes later Aunt Hilda shrilled, "Copilot, by plan, as set- Rotate!"

"Difference physical laws, a different topology."

Jacob:

We rotated to... Nowhere- So it seemed. Free fall and utter blackness- The cabin held only the faint

radiance from the instruments.

My daughter said in hushed tones, "Captain! May I turn on inside lights?" This was a time to establish discipline and doctrine. "Permission refused.

Copilot, I would like to see in all directions."

"Yes, sir," Zeb acknowledged.

After a few moments I added, "Copilot? Why are you waiting?"

"I am awaiting orders, sir."

"What the hell, Zeb? Get with it! I said I wanted to see in all directions. We have preprograms for that."

"Yes, Captain."

"Well? Why aren't you using them? Can't you carry out orders?" (I was amazed at Zeb.)

"Captain, I have not as yet received any orders, and I am not at the conn."

I started to answer sharply-and bit down on it. Precisely what had I said? I recalled that the autopilot stayed in recording mode during maneuvers; I could play back the last few minutes-

-and decided not to. We were wasting time and it was possible that I had not expressed myself in the form of a direct order. Nevertheless I could not

ignore Zeb's pigheaded behavior. "Copilot, I am aware that I have not given you direct orders. However, it is customary to treat a captain's requests as politely worded orders."

"Yes, sir."

"Well? God damn it, why don't-"

"Captain! Captain Jacob! Please listen! Please!" I took a deep breath. "What is it, Hilda?"

"Captain, I am required to advise you."

"Eh? Advise away-but be quick about it."

"Captain, you have given the Copilot neither orders nor requests. The autopilot's record will confirm this. You mentioned preprograms-but voice programs are not normally handled by the Copilot."

"I can order the Copilot to use a voice program." Hilda did not answer. Again I waited, then said, "Well?" Then I said, "Astrogator, you did not answer me." "Sorry, Captain. Answer what?"