Burleigh said fretfully. "Very well ... Harper, you and Brawn bring him here. We'll see what he says. Be careful!"
Harper and Brawn went down the passageway. Moran saw them take out the blasters they'd worn since he took over the ship. They were ready. They unlocked and opened the inner airlock door.
There was silence. Harper looked shocked. He went in the airlock while Brawn stared, for once startled out of moodiness.
Harper came out.
"He's gone," he said in a flat voice. "Out the airlock."
All the rest went instantly to look. The airlock was empty. By the most natural and inevitable of oversights, when Hallet was put in it for a temporary cell, no one had thought of locking the outer door. There was no point in it. It only led out to the nightmare world. And out there Hallet would be in monstrous danger; he'd have no food. At most his only weapon would be the torch Moran had carried to the Malabar and brought back again. He could have no hope of any kind. He could feel only despair unthinkable and horror undiluted.
There was a buzzing sound in the airlock. A space-suit hung there. The helmet-phone was turned on. Hallet's voice came out, flat and metallic and desperate and filled with hate:
"What're you going to do now? You'd better think of a bargain to offer me! You can't lift off! I took the fuel-block so Moran couldn't afford to kill me after the rest of you were dead. You can't lift off the ground! Now give me a guarantee I can believe in or you stay here with me!"
Harper bolted for the engine-room. He came back, his face ashen. "He's right. It's gone. He took it."