"Come here, Fitz."
"Yes sir." The master mechanic left his work and approached.
"What the hell is this little death?"
Fitz scratched his head. "I've been through it twenty-seven times," he confessed, "and I don't rightly know, sir."
"Don't know? What kind of answer is that? What do you do here in the engine room?"
Again the fat Terran shook his head. "Beggin' your pardon, sir, but we're not in the engine room, then."
"What?"
"No, sir. We go to our fo'c'sles. Everybody. Crew and officers. The Nova switches onto the robot pilot...." He hesitated.
"And then?" urged Gavin, impatiently. "What happens then? Speak up, man."
Fitz looked embarrassed. "I'd rather not talk about it, sir."