The ship was empty.
There was not the slightest sign of life. The five men roamed through the vessel, noting the utterly alien control-panel, the strange furnishings, the peculiar fixtures and appurtenances. But the ship was void of life.
Finally they returned to the Wheel and, puzzled, discussed the situation.
"It makes no sense," objected Lasseux. The small Frenchman was plainly obsessed with the inconsistency of the thing. "The ship crosses the interstellar void ... alone? Can remote control extend so far?"
"Looks like it did," said Gregson.
"Impossible!" Lasseux sputtered.
"In any case," said Beveridge, "we have a prize—a gift from the stars. An alien spaceship, free and without strings of any kind. We should notify Earth of our find."
"Do you suppose," said Lal, "that the pilot of that ship may be around yet?"
"Huh?" From Gregson and Beveridge at the same time.
"What I mean is, suppose that pilot is not like you and me—suppose, that is, that he is invisible? Perhaps he is still aboard his ship, and we passed over him unknowing? Or perhaps he has come right in here with us and listens to our very words?"