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Mata took her watch alone; Jeri required the trainee to stand watches with him. The first watch was always free from strain; even if a raider had accurate information via n-space communicator of Sisu's time of departure and destination, it was impossible in a jump of many light-years to predict the exact time and place where she would poke her nose out into rational space.
Jeri settled in his chair some minutes after Thorby had strapped down with that age-old tense feeling that this time it was not practice. Jeri grinned at him. "Relax. If you get your blood stream loaded, your back will ache, and you'll never last"
Thorby grinned feebly. "I'll try."
"That's better. We're going to play a game." Jeri pulled a boxlike contrivance out of a pocket, snapped it open.
"What is that?"
"A 'killjoy.' It fits here." Jeri slipped it over the switch that determined which console was in command. "Can you see the switch?"
"Huh? No."
"Hand the man the prize." Jeri fiddled with the switch behind the screen. "Which of us is in control in case we have to launch a bomb now?"
"How can I tell? Take that off, Jeri; it makes me nervous."
"That's the game. Maybe I'm controlling and you are just going through motions; maybe you are the man at the trigger and I'm asleep in my chair. Every so often I'll fiddle with the switch -- but you won't know how I've left it
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