Saxon led Ileth through the control room, the officer's mess, the engine room and observation deck. Everywhere they went, Saxon probed the brains of crew and officers.
At the end of two hours, he still had found exactly nothing. Apparently Q62 was not aboard. Ileth asked slyly, "Did you find him?"
They had entered the deck on which the cabins were located and were passing the closed door of number seven.
"Q62?" said Saxon with a puzzled frown. "No—" He halted abruptly, seizing the girl's arm.
"Jon! What is it?"
"Be quiet!"
Saxon's scalp was tingling as if minute electrical shocks were coursing through the roots of his hair.
The Aliens?
The feel was unmistakable to his extra-human sixth sense. And it was emanating from Cabin Seven!
Like a cat he reached the door in one silent bound, pressed the button. The panel slid back noiselessly. Except for a blade of light lancing into the cabin from the lighted passage, only darkness lurked beyond the doorway.