"Make the change," Thompson ordered bluntly.
Reluctantly Grant fed the new course into the computers. A throb went through the vessel as the ship shifted in response.
"We'll come out of hyper-flight in less than three hours," Grant spoke. "Heaven help us if this course is not changed before that time."
"If this course is not changed before that time, Heaven alone can help us. From now on, you're not to leave this control room for an instant."
"Yes, sir."
With Buster following behind him, Thompson left the control room.
"Yoooow!" The scream coming from the lounge this time was in a different key and had a different sound. But the meaning was the same as it had been when Kurkil had screamed. Thompson went forward on the run.
The victim was Ross. Like Kurkil, he was tearing his clothes off. Like Kurkil, he was turning green. When he went down, he did not rise again.
As he stood staring down at Ross, Thompson had the vague impression of whirring wings passing near him. Whispering wings, as if a soul were taking flight.
From the engine room Neff appeared. "I heard somebody scream over the intercom. Oh, I see." His face worked, his jaws moved as if he was trying to speak. But no sound came.