Adam March slugged him with the monkey wrench. Nuoy went down without a sound. "That's why we call 'em monkey wrenches," March said, satisfaction in his voice. "They're made especially for use on monkeys like you!" Laying the wrench back on the arm of the chair, he ran his fingers over the complex system of controls in front of him.
"Clear the ship, all hands!" his voice went out over the ship. Flipping over to listening, he caught the sound of fleeing footsteps. He smiled to himself. His orders were being obeyed.
"Are all hands clear?" he shouted. "Anyone who is still in the ship, answer at once."
There was no answer. No running footsteps sounded. The ship was clear.
As if his neck had suddenly developed a will of its own, he felt it turn on his shoulders as something entered the control room.
Coming through the open door was a glowing, vibrating, angry ball of flowing crystal light.
Adam did what he had planned to do—what had to be done.
Beside the ramp, Craig knew he was losing the battle with Captain Martin. The captain was tough, hard, strong. He fought like a wild man. Using knees and elbows, he fought as if he was taking orders from someone else and his life was of no consequence.
Kicking Craig in the head, he scrambled to his feet.
The last of the crew were rushing from the ship.