Grimes didn't know exactly what he was doing, but he did it effectively just the same. He shot a right cross that caught Ramsey on the jaw and knocked him senseless. Then he knelt beside his chief engineer.
"Who did it, boy? What did it? You've got to tell me. Do you understand—you've got to talk."
Manson tried. When he opened his mouth Grimes could see the blood gathering and it nearly made him sick. He thought his own insides would burst with each convulsion of the younger man's body.
"It was ... I think it was...."
The voice trailed off in a new spasm that ended in a violent kicking of his arms and legs as if he were fighting off an attacking animal. Then he vomited hideously and slowly relaxed.
Grimes looked at the doctor and beyond him could see the men still glowering at him accusingly.
"It's too late now," Dr. Johnson shook his head.
"I guess we don't know any more than we did," Grimes said weakly. "Make it easy for him if you can."
He spun around and concentrated on the radar map with no real interest. A crash of something fragile caused him to turn again toward the figure on the floor. Bill Manson had knocked the needle from the doctor's hand and was struggling to speak.
Grimes leaped to his side instantly and cradled the boy's head in his hands. "Speak up, Bill."