Chapter IV

_The primary function of personality is self-preservation, but
personality itself is not a static but a dynamic thing. The
basic factor in its development, is integration: each new
situation calls forth a new adjustment which modifies or alters
the personality in the process. The proper aim of personality,
therefore, is not permanence and stability, but unification. The
inability of a personality to adjust to or integrate a new
situation, the resistance of the personality to unification, and
its efforts to preserve its integrity are known popularly as
insanity._
--Morgan Littlefield,
Notes on Psychology.

“Hoskins!”

Paresi grabbed the Captain’s arm and spun him around roughly. “Captain Anderson! Cut it!” Very softly, he said, “Leave him alone. He’s doing what he has to do.”

Anderson stared over his shoulder at the little engineer. “Is he, now? Damn it, he’s still under orders!”

“Got something for him to do?” asked the doctor cooly.

Anderson looked around, at the controls, out at the sleeping mountains. “I guess not. But I’d like to know he’d take an order when I have one.”

“Leave him alone until you have an order. Hoskins is a very steady head, skipper. But just now he’s on the outside edge. Don’t push.”

The Captain put his hand over his eyes and fumbled his way to the controls. He turned his back to the pilot’s chair and leaned heavily against it. “Okay,” he said. “This thing is developing into a duel between you and those ... those colleagues of yours out there. I guess the least we ... I ... can do is not to fight you while you’re fighting them.”

Paresi said, “You’re choosing up sides the wrong way. They’re fighting us, all right. We’re only fighting ourselves. I don’t mean each other; I mean each of us is fighting himself. We’ve got to stop doing that, skipper.”

The Captain gave him a wan smile. “Who has, at the best of times?”

Paresi returned the smile. “Drug addicts ... Catatonics ... illusionaries ... and saints. I guess it’s up to us to add to the category.”

“How about dead people?”

“Ives! How long have you been awake?”

The big man shoved himself up and leaned on one arm. He shook his head and grunted as if he had been punched in the solar plexus. “Who hit me with what?” he said painfully, from between clenched teeth.

“You apparently decided the bulkhead was a paper hoop and tried to dive through it,” said Paresi. He spoke lightly but his face was watchful.

“Oooh...” Ives held his head for a moment and then peered between his fingers at the darkness. “I remember,” he said in a strained whisper. He looked around him, saw the engineer huddled against his chessboard. “What’s he doing?”

They all looked at the engineer as he moved a piece and then sat quietly.

“Hey, Hoskins!”

Hoskins ignored Ives’ bull voice. Paresi said, “He’s not talking just now. He’s ... all right, Ives. Leave him alone. At the moment, I’m more interested in you. How do you feel?”

“Me, I feel great. Hungry, though. What’s for chow?”

Anderson said quickly, “Nick doesn’t want us to eat just now.”

“Thanks,” muttered Paresi in vicious irony.

“He’s the doctor,” said Ives good-naturedly. “But don’t put it off too long, huh? This furnace needs stoking.” He fisted his huge chest.

“Well, this is encouraging,” said Paresi.

“It certainly is,” said the Captain. “Maybe the breaking point is just the point of impact. After that the rebound, hm?”

Paresi shook his head. “Breaking means breaking. Sometimes things just don’t break.”

“Got to pass,” said a voice. Johnny, the pilot, was stirring.

“Ha!” Anderson’s voice was exultant. “Here comes another one!”

“How sure are you of that?” asked the doctor. To Johnny, he called, “Hiya, John?”

“I got to pass,” said Johnny worriedly. He swung his feet to the deck. “You see,” he said earnestly, “being the head of your class doesn’t make it any easier. You’ve got to keep that and pass the examinations too. You’ve got two jobs. Now, the guy who stands fourth, say--he has only one job to do.”

Anderson turned a blank face to Paresi, who made a silencing gesture. Johnny put his head in his hands and said, “When one variable varies directly as another, two pairs of their corresponding values are in proportion.” He looked up. “That’s supposed to be the keystone of all vector analysis, the man says, and you don’t get to be a pilot without vector analysis. And it makes no sense to me. What am I going to do?”

“Get some shuteye,” said Paresi immediately. “You’ve been studying too hard. It’ll make more sense to you in the morning.”

Johnny grinned and yawned at the same time, the worried wrinkles smoothing out. “Now that was a real educational remark, Martin, old chap,” he said. He lay down and stretched luxuriously. “That I can understand. You may wear my famous maroon zipsuit.” He turned his face away and was instantly asleep.

“Who the hell is Martin?” Ives demanded. “Martin who?”

“Shh. Probably his roommate in pre-pilot school.”

Anderson gaped. “You mean he’s back in school?”

“Doesn’t it figure?” said Paresi sadly. “I told you that this situation is intolerable to him. If he can’t escape in space, he’ll escape in time. He hasn’t the imagination to go forward, so he goes backward.”