Professor Larrabee deliberately finished his drink, gently put down the glass, and stood up.
"Our final spacecap," he said. "Well, Alan, it's been a good trip, but I can't say I'm surprised at its ending. The ship had the wrong name, from the beginning."
"We'd better hurry, Professor. We must find Tanya and the Halls."
"You're walking too fast for me, my boy. Don't worry. They're in Boat F, with us, and we're sure to find them there."
In the corridor leading to F station their way was blocked by the crowd, many of them still wearing the grotesque costumes of the masquerade dance, now pale and tawdry in the bright lights. Stunned with horror, they stared through the transparent wall at the gaping socket where the lifeboat had been. Crewmen formed a tight circle around the truck and the man who lay moaning on the floor. Pistols ready, they held back the crowd while Dr. Willoughby administered an intravenous shot of panedol, and Captain Evans, kneeling beside the dying man, tried to catch his whispers.
"It was Mr. Jasperson, sir. He got me before I could do a thing. I tried to stop him."
"You say you warned him?"
"I called to him, sir, and said the boat wasn't ready. But he didn't give me a chance. He shot me."
The boy closed his eyes, and Evans stood up.