He took several more of the white pills for his headache. Briefly he considered eating something, but abandoned the idea. The pain was so intense, he didn't think he could keep anything down.
He found the illusion he had noted yesterday—the whispering sound he could not hear when he tried—was still there. It was even worse now.
All about him was the flickering shadow of a sound, demanding his attention, requesting. And still—when he tried to hear it, it was gone.
He pressed his knuckles against his forehead and clenched his eyes tightly shut.
If only he had something to do to take his mind off the headache and the elusive sound.... But there was nothing to do. With neither the Skipdrive nor the atomics operating, he had not even the routine powerchecks to keep him occupied.
Then why am I here?
His function was to operate the ship. That much he knew without doubt. And he was well suited to operate it. His hands were properly shaped to manipulate the controls, and he could do it automatically, without thinking about it. He was Ship-Operator.
But the ship was not operating....
What was his function then, when the ship was not operating?
The other control devices, when not controlling, automatically shut off. Perhaps something had gone wrong in his shut-off relay.