Old Kerry Blane exploded. "Damn it!" he roared. "I don't like you; and I don't like this ship; and I don't like the assignment; and I don't like those infernal pills you keep eating; and I—" "Splinter" Wood grinned. "Seems to me, Kerry," he remarked humorously, "that you don't like much of anything!" Kerry Blane growled unintelligibly, batted the injector lever with a calloused hand. His grizzled hair was a stiff wiry mop on his small head, and his oversize jaw was thrust belligerently forward.