Anchoring himself to the automatic pilot, he studied Makki's body as dispassionately as he could. The captain was still strapped in the cushioned chair. Oddly, he was wearing gloves.
The log-tape was in the recorder beside the control chair. Clipped to a metal leaf on the stanchion beside the chair was Makki's notepad. Scrawled on it in the captain's handwriting was the notation: "73rd day. Earth transit."
"What's up, Lefler?" asked a voice behind him. Lefler turned to face Taat, the ship's doctor. Taat, a plump, graying man, was wiping his hands on the white smock he wore.
Lefler moved aside, letting Taat see Makki's body. Taat's eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed with a professional gleam. He stepped quickly to Makki's side, made as if to pick up the dead captain's wrist, then turned back to Lefler with a fatalistic flick of his hands.
"What was it, Lefler?" he asked in a low voice. "A fight?"
"I don't know," said Lefler. "I found him that way."
Taat raised his eyebrows.
"Robwood?" he asked softly.
Robwood's head poked up through the companionway, and he floated into the control room. There was a streak of grease across the engineer's thin face.
"Great space!" exclaimed Robwood at once. "What happened to Makki?"