The Pilot gazed down at the board. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t touch a thing. I didn’t even get to it.”
The ship was gaining speed each moment. Kramer hesitated. “Maybe you better switch it back to manual.”
The Pilot closed the switch. He took hold of the steering controls and moved them experimentally. “Nothing.” He turned around. “Nothing. It doesn’t respond.”
No one spoke.
“You can see what has happened,” Kramer said calmly. “The old man won’t let go of it, now that he has it. I was afraid of this when I saw the wiring changes. Everything in this ship is centrally controlled, even the cooling system, the hatches, the garbage release. We’re helpless.”
“Nonsense.” Gross strode to the board. He took hold of the wheel and turned it. The ship continued on its course, moving away from the moon, leaving it behind.
“Release!” Kramer said into the microphone. “Let go of the controls! We’ll take it back. Release.”
“No good,” the Pilot said. “Nothing.” He spun the useless wheel. “It’s dead, completely dead.”
“And we’re still heading out,” Winter said, grinning foolishly. “We’ll be going through the first-line defense belt in a few minutes. If they don’t shoot us down—”
“We better radio back.” The Pilot clicked the radio to send. “I’ll contact the main bases, one of the observation stations.”