Holmes picked up a cube.
"I'll try it," he said cheerfully. "I go to sleep, perchance to dream. Right! See you later."
Burke moved toward the ship's air-lock.
"Pam and I have some housekeeping to do," Sandy said.
Burke nodded abstractedly. He left the ship and headed along the mile-long corridor with the turn at the end, a second level and another turn, and then the flight of steps to the instrument-room. As he walked, the sound of his footsteps echoed and reëchoed.
Behind him, Holmes set a cube in a suitable position and curled up on one of the side-wall bunks in the upper compartment of the spaceship.
"We'll go downstairs," said Sandy.
Pam parted her lips to speak, and did not. They disappeared down the stair to the lower room. Then Sandy came back and picked up the extra cubes.
"Joe said to move them," she explained.
She disappeared again. Holmes settled himself comfortably. He was one of those fortunate people who are able to relax at will. Actually, in his work he normally did his thinking while on his feet, moving about his yacht-building plant or else sailing one of his own boats. He simply was not a sit-down thinker. Sitting, he could doze at almost any time he pleased, and for a yachtsman it was a useful ability. He could go for days on snatched catnaps when necessary. Conversely he could catnap practically at will.