"No, no," Rugel said patiently, "I'm not accusing you of anything, only being careless, young Ringg. You poke with those buzzing instruments and things, maybe once you tear loose some wires."
Bart remembered he wasn't supposed to know what was going on. "What's this all about?"
It was Rugel who answered. "The radiation counter--the planetary one, not the one we use in space--is out of order. We don't even need it this landing--there's no radiation on Lharillis. If it were the landing gear, now, that would be serious. I'm just trying to tell Ringg--"
"He's trying to say I didn't check it." Ringg was not to be calmed. "It's my professional competence--"
"Forget it," Bart said. "If Rugel isn't sore about it, and if we don't need it for landing, why worry?" He felt like Judas.
"Just take a look at my daybook," Ringg insisted, "I checked and marked it _service fit_! I tell you, somebody was blundering around, opening panels where they had no business, tore it out by accident, then was too much of a filthy sneak to report it and get it fixed!"
"Bartol was on watch alone one night," said the Second Officer, "but you wouldn't meddle with panels, would you, Bartol?"
Bart set his teeth, steadying his breathing, as Ringg turned hopefully to him. "Bartol, did you--by mistake, maybe? Because if you did, it won't count against your rating, but it means a black mark against mine!"
Bart hid his self-contempt in sudden, tense fury. "No, I didn't! You're going to accuse everybody on the _Swiftwing_, all the way from me to Vorongil, before _you_ can admit a mistake, aren't you? If you want somebody to blame, look in a mirror!"
"Listen, you!" Ringg's pent-up rage exploded. He seized Bart by the shoulder and Bart moved to throw him off, so that Ringg's outthrust claws raked only his forearm. In pure reflex he felt his own claws flick out; they clinched, closed, scuffled, and he felt his claws rake flesh; half incredulous, saw the thin red line of blood welling from Ringg's cheek.
Then Rugel's arms were flung restrainingly around him, and the Second Officer was wrestling with a furious, struggling Ringg. Bart looked at his red-tipped claws in ill-concealed horror, but it was lost in a general gasp of consternation, for Vorongil had flung the drive room door open, taking in the scene in one blistering glance.