He shook his head. "I'm no scientist, Jennifer. It sounds like atomic disintegration."
"But why?"
Again he shook his head. His food, he realized, was growing cold. He began to eat mechanically. He thought that if he ever reached Ganymede, he'd never venture into space again.
The girl said, "Vermeer was right about one thing. The Empire's crumbling. This never could have happened a hundred years ago." She hesitated, then added with a rush, "I wasn't going to tell you because I'm not sure, but Mr. Vermeer's stateroom is next to mine. When I first came aboard and was putting away my things, I noticed a man leave his stateroom. Norman, it wasn't Mr. Vermeer. I think it was that T.I.S. agent who was murdered."
"By Jupiter," ejaculated Norman, "do you think the T.I.S. man could have been making an investigation of this Vermeer?"
She nodded her head, wide-eyed.
"Have you told the Captain?"
"No," said the girl.
"But he should know."
She shook her head. "He'd think I was imagining things. The passengers have been reporting all sorts of nonsense since the murder. If I could only be sure." She bit her lip. "Norman, the dance tonight. He'll be there. We could search his room."