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Updated: June 2, 2025
At Tom's words, the watchers and crewmen who were crowded into the Recoverer's control room stirred restlessly. Its bulkheads were banked with radar and telemetering devices. Tension had been mounting throughout the morning aboard the ships and observation planes of the task force as everyone awaited the return of the planet-circling missile scientists' deepest penetration into space so far.
He recovered completely, and was shocked at the heinous thing that had been done to him. They crucified Feldman. Spaceman Most crewmen lived rough, ugly lives and usually, short ones.
Passengers and officers on the big tubs were given the equivalent of gravity in spinning compartments, but the crews rode "free". The lucky crewmen lived through their accidents, got space-stomach now and then, and recovered. Nobody cared about the others. Feldman's ticket was work-stamped for the Navaho, and nobody questioned his identity.
Mel wondered what kind of reprimand the crewmen of the Martian Princess could give him, and what fantastic justification they might offer for their own actions. But he wasn't being taken toward the Martian Princess. He twisted painfully in the grip of the robot tentacles and confirmed that he was being carried to the black stranger.
Every pressure suit had magnetic boots and hand-pads to enable crewmen to go outside and make repairs on the hull of a ship in transit. Tom clung, and moved, and clung again, trying to reach the protecting hull of the Ranger before the orbit-ship swung him around to the sun-side again.... He couldn't move fast enough.
Several crewmen slid down to make an examination of the boat itself. Their heads came up, their eyes searched along the rail and centered on Ross. The hostility was so open the Terran braced himself to meet those cold stares as he would a rush from a challenger. A slight sound behind sent Ross leaping to the right, wanting to get his back against solid protection.
In a long curve he arced back toward the ship. Instantly, the searchers moved to close in the arc and meet him on a collision course. He could see them now. They were not crewmen in spacesuits as he had supposed. Rather, the objects two of them looked like miniature spaceships.
I couldn't tell. But this luminous globe hadn't been turned on without good reason. Consequently, I hoped that some crewmen would soon make an appearance. If you want to consign people to oblivion, you don't light up their dungeons. I was not mistaken. Unlocking noises became audible, a door opened, and two men appeared.
"But if it is," said Roger, "how did he get out there?" From behind them, the hatch to the inner air lock opened and Al James stepped through. "Captain Strong," he said excitedly, "you've got to come quickly. Some of the crewmen have broken into your arms locker and taken paralo-ray guns. They threaten to leave you here if you don't return to the ship within five minutes.
Snookums rolled over to the board where Multhaus was sitting and watched over his shoulder for perhaps thirty seconds. The crewmen eyed him, but they were much too busy to do anything. Besides, they were used to his presence by this time. Then, in one quick tour of the room, Snookums glanced at every meter in the place.
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