He began to climb. At the ceiling hatch, he grunted and pressed against it with his shoulders. The hatch lifted away. He continued upward. Gravity lessened. His feet made soft, rustling noises.
He paused to rest at the first landing. He was in familiar territory. Fierut let the mutants from the smaller compartment help clean the machinery there every month or so. The air smelled of crisp ozone and hot oil.
Then as he rested, he saw movement behind one of the huge, softly purring machines. Although he could not know this, it was a female from the larger compartment. Muscles knotting, he waited.
He saw her again—the merest glint of flesh. She had not seen him. He half crouched.
It is impossible, he told himself. Only my compartment-mates and Forential and others of his race are on the ship.
Walt did not even think of trying for telepathic contact. Blind hatred overcame him. She's an earthling! he thought instinctively.
She has been left here for a test; that's it, he thought. Forential is testing me....
He crept cautiously toward her. Still she was unaware of him.
I will break her neck, so....
No, he thought suddenly.