"Majinski on, retired to quarters. Pee-yew!"
Then, silence, pregnant with listening.
"McManus," snapped Pritchard.
"Louder," said the captain. "He may be asleep."
"McManus!" The tall hunter shouted. "TOM!"
Then he was out the door. The captain strode to the intercom. "All free hands to McManus. Fast!" he barked, and then ran after Pritchard who was already stepping into the axial lift.
McManus's quarters were well down in the tail. Pritchard found half a dozen men clustered at his cabin door which they had torched open. Their eyes were watering and they were gagging at the incredibly foul stench roiling the air.
"Where's McManus?" he demanded, starting to shoulder through them. The stench caught at his throat so that he choked on the words.
A cadet hunter clutched at his sleeve. "Don't go in there, chief," he gasped. "You can't do Tom any good now."
Savage was at the wall intercom. "Meyer, for God's sake, blow this ship out," he yelled hoarsely.