It was this hatch or nothing. He thought it was the right one, but couldn’t be sure. He could no longer see. His vision had gone completely. The pain was a numb thing now, far away, hardly a part of himself. Maybe Mayhem was absorbing the pain-sensation for him, he thought. Maybe Mayhem took the pain and suffered with it in the shared body so he, Larry, could still think. Maybe—
His blistered fingers were barely able to move within the insulined gloves, Larry fumbled with the hatch.
Ackerman Boone whirled suddenly. He had been intent upon the companionway door and the sounds behind him—which he had heard but not registered as dangerous for several seconds—now made him turn.
The man was peeling off a space suit. Literally peeling it off in strips from his lobster-red flesh. He blinked at Boone without seeing him. Dazzle-blinded, Boone thought, then realized his own vision was going.
“I’ll kill you if you go near that subspace drive!” Boone screamed.
“It’s the only chance for all of us and you know it, Boone,” the man said quietly. “Don’t try to stop me.”
Ackerman Boone lifted his N-gun and squinted through the haze of heat and blinding light. He couldn’t see! He couldn’t see….
Wildly, he fired the N-gun. Wildly, in all directions, spraying the room with it—
Larry dropped blindly forward. Twice he tripped over unconscious men, but climbed to his feet and went on. He could not see Boone, but he could see—vaguely—the muzzle flash of Boone’s N-gun. He staggered across the room toward that muzzle-flash and finally embraced it—