The captain's voice, too, was rigid with unemotion. "Number One ..."
"Silence!" And then, less bitterly. "Come further from the boat before you again let your tongue run loose. Here." They had reached the shack.
"You are right, Number ..."
"No. I am no longer Number One. You must continue to think of me as Mister Smith, your cousin, whom you brought here for the reasons you explained to the under-officers, before you surrender your ship. If you think of me so, you will be less likely to slip in your speech."
"There is nothing further I can do—Mister Smith?"
"Nothing. Go now."
"And I am ordered to surrender the—"
"There are no orders. The war is over, lost. I would suggest thought as to what spaceport you put into. In some you may receive humane treatment. In others—"
The captain nodded. "In others, there is great hatred. Yes. That is all?"
"That is all. And, Captain, your running of the blockade, your securing of fuel en route, have constituted a deed of high valor. All I can give you in reward is my thanks. But now go. Goodbye."