"What?"
March gestured in the direction of the hangar. "There's something wrong in that ship."
"Why do you say that?"
"I have my reasons."
"But what makes you think so? What proof? If you know what you are talking about—"
March recoiled at the words. "I knew you would think I did not know what I was talking about."
"I'm sorry, Adam, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. But you've got to have some proof." He hesitated, as a sudden thought struck him. "Or ... maybe you ought to drop in on one of the station doctors in the morning. Maybe you've got a touch of space sickness. You've been here on Pluto pretty long."
The old man recoiled even more. He clutched the wrench. "Leave me alone, Craig," he said harshly. "Go away from me. I don't want to talk to you."
Craig had no choice except to leave. The lock clicked in the door. He hunted up Mary. "I'm going to take a look at the Andromeda. Want to come along?"
The expression on his face must have revealed what he was thinking. Her answer was quick. "Of course. But what's wrong?"