On the Beach by Nevil Shute Page B

recently.”
    “I think I will.”
    “What was the American like?”
    “He’s nice. Very quiet and navy.”
    “Was he married?”
    “I didn’t ask him. I should think he must have been.”
    “What did you do?”
    The girl repressed her irritation at the catechism; Ma was like that, and there was now too little time to spend it in quarrelling. “We went sailing in the afternoon.” She settled down to tell her mother most of what had happened during the week-end, repressing the bit about her bra and much of what had happened at the party.
    At Williamstown Commander Towers walked into the dockyard and made his way to
Sydney
. He occupied two adjoining cabins with a communicating door in the bulkhead, one of which was used for office purposes. He sent a messenger for the officer of the deck in
Scorpion
and Lieutenant Hirsch appeared with a sheaf of signals in his hand. He took these from the young man and read themthrough. Mostly they dealt with routine matters of the fuelling and victualling, but one from the Third Naval Member’s office was unexpected. It told him that a civilian scientific officer of the Commonwealth Scientific and Industrial Research Organisation had been ordered to report in
Scorpion
for scientific duties. This officer would be under the command of the Australian liaison officer in
Scorpion
. His name was Mr. J. S. Osborne.
    Commander Towers held this signal in his hand, and glanced at the Lieutenant. “Say, do you know anything about this guy?”
    “He’s here right now, sir. He arrived this morning. I put him in the wardroom and got the duty officer to allocate a cabin for him for tonight.”
    The captain raised his eyebrows. “Well, what do you know! What does he look like?”
    “Very tall and thin. Mousey sort of hair. Wears spectacles.”
    “How old?”
    “A little older than me, I’d say. Under thirty, though.”
    The captain thought for a minute. “Going to make things kind of crowded in the wardroom. I think we’ll berth him with Commander Holmes. You got three men aboard?”
    “That’s right. Isaacs, Holman, and de Vries. Chief of the Boat Mortimer is on board, too.”
    “Tell the Chief I want another cot rigged on the forward side of Bulkhead F, transverse to the ship, head to starboard. He can take one out of the forward torpedo flat.”
    “Okay, sir.”
    Commander Towers ran through the routine matters in the other signals with his officer, and then sent the Lieutenant to ask Mr. Osborne to come to the office.When the civilian appeared he motioned him to a chair, gave him a cigarette, and dismissed his officer. “Well, Mr. Osborne,” he said, “this is quite a surprise. I just read the order posting you to join us. I’m glad to know you.”
    “I’m afraid it was rather a quick decision,” the scientist said. “I only heard about it the day before yesterday.”
    “That’s very often the way it is in service matters,” said the captain. “Well, first things first. What’s your full name?”
    “John Seymour Osborne.”
    “Married?”
    “No.”
    “Okay. Aboard
Scorpion
, or aboard any naval vessel, you address me as Captain Towers, and every now and then you call me ‘sir’. On shore, off duty, my name is Dwight to you—not to the junior officers.”
    The scientist smiled. “Very good, sir.”
    “Ever been to sea in a submarine before?”
    “No.”
    “You’ll find things just a little cramped till you get used to it. I’m fixing you a berth in Officer’s Country, and you’ll mess with the officers in the wardroom.” He glanced at the neat grey suit upon the scientist. “You’ll probably need clothing. See Lieutenant-Commander Holmes about that when he comes aboard tomorrow morning, and get him to draw clothing for you from the store. You’ll get that suit messed up if you go down in
Scorpion
in that.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    The captain leaned back in his chair and glanced at the scientist, noting the lean, intelligent face, the loose,