 What is Major Banes' opinion of Lt. Alice Britton's husband?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] There, high in the emptiness of space, Space Station One swung in its orbit. Once every two hours, the artificial satellite looped completely around the planet, watching what went on below. Outside its bright steel hull was the silence of the interplanetary vacuum; inside, in the hospital ward, Lieutenant Alice Britton clutched at the sheets of her bed in pain, then relaxed as it faded away. We're over Eastern Europe now, but as soon as we get within radio range of New Mexico, I'll beam a call in." Major Banes was all smiles and cheer now, but he hadn't been that way five months ago. "Lieutenant Britton, you're either careless or brainless; I don't know which! Your husband may be the finest rocket jockey in the Space Service, but that doesn't give him the right to come blasting up here on a supply rocket just to get you pregnant!" Alice had said: "I'm sure the thought never entered his mind, doctor. "Lieutenant Britton, it is my personal opinion that you need your head examined, and not by a general practitioner, either! The terrible pressure of a rocket landing would increase her effective body weight to nearly half a ton; an adult human being couldn't take that sort of punishment for long, much less the tiny life that was growing within her. Her pregnancy had never made her uncomfortable; the slow rotation of the wheel-shaped station about its axis gave an effective gravity at the rim only half that of Earth's surface, and the closer to the hub she went, the less her weight became. And at a maximum of half of Earth gravity, you shouldn't weigh more than seventy pounds then. And then, only half an hour ago, a meteor had hit the radar room. The depressurization hadn't hurt her too much, but the shock had been enough to start labor. There was nothing to worry about; she had absolute faith in the red-haired major. But as soon as we get within radio range of White Sands, I'll ask them to send up an emergency rocket with an incubator. It will be at least three hours before they can get a ship up here. Major Banes was in the Communications Center a full five minutes before the coastline of California appeared on the curved horizon of the globe beneath them.
 He thinks highly of his ability but not about his personality
 He thinks highly of his ability but not about his personality  He thinks he's very skilled as a pilot and a great husband too  He doesn't think much of him at all  He thinks he's a talentless impulsive man who bought his way to his position