[Illustration]

Finally, hours later, they moved again toward the lock where they had
left their sleds. Not a word passed between them. The uneasiness was
strong in Sabo's mind now, growing deeper, mingling with fear and a
premonition of impending evil. A dead ship, a derelict, come to them by
merest chance from some unthinkably remote star. He cursed, without
knowing why, and suddenly he felt he hated Brownie as much as he hated
the captain waiting for them in the Station.

But as he stepped into the Station's lock, a new thought crossed his
mind, almost dazzling him with its unexpectedness. He looked at the
engineer's thin face, and his hands were trembling as he opened the
pressure suit.

* * * * *

He deliberately took longer than was necessary to give his report to the
captain, dwelling on unimportant details, watching with malicious
amusement the captain's growing annoyance. Captain Loomis' eyes kept
sliding to Brownie, as though trying to read the information he wanted
from the engineer's face. Sabo rolled up the charts slowly, stowing them
in a pile on the desk. "That's the picture, sir. Perhaps a qualified
astronomer could make something of it; I haven't the knowledge or the
instruments. The ship came from outside the system, beyond doubt.
Probably from a planet with lighter gravity than our own, judging from
the frailty of the creatures. Oxygen breathers, from the looks of their
gas storage. If you ask me, I'd say--"

"All right, all right," the captain breathed impatiently. "You can write
it up and hand it to me. It isn't really important where they came from,
or whether they breathe oxygen or fluorine." He turned his eyes to the
engineer, and lit a cigar with trembling fingers. "The important thing
is _how_ they got here. The drive, Brownie. You went over the engines
carefully? What did you find?"

Brownie twitched uneasily, and looked at the floor. "Oh, yes, I examined
them carefully. Wasn't too hard. I examined every piece of drive
machinery on the ship, from stem to stern."

Sabo nodded, slowly, watching the little man with a carefully blank
face. "That's right. You gave it a good going over."

Brownie licked his lips. "It's a derelict, like Johnny told you. They
were dead. All of them. Probably had been dead for a long time. I
couldn't tell, of course. Probably nobody could tell. But they must have
been dead for centuries--"

The captain's eyes blinked as the i