Marcia took Johnny's hand in one of her own and Joan's in the other, and she walked away with them beyond the close horizon. "Okay, Burt," she called back. "You can start looking."
Burt did not like the task ahead of him, but with general space travel still less than half a century old, lost ships were no rarity, and he considered himself morally obligated to find the bodies. He was back in the Havelock now, and it was a small ship. He covered it in five minutes, and he scratched his head. No one ... there were all the signs of occupation, but no one was around. Dishes for three were set on the plastalloy table, with a blubbery green mass on each plate, billowing over on to the table. That meant that there had been food on those dishes when, quite suddenly, the three people had disappeared. It also meant that bacteria, at least, flourished on this asteroid. And—what else? Why had the three people disappeared, why had they vanished utterly with a meal waiting for them on the table—
"Burt! Burt!" It was Marcia, and she was screaming.
Burt poked his head outside the broken airlock. Marcia was running toward the Havelock. "Burt—get out. To me, quick!"
Burt looked up. Toward the other horizon was a slight hill, not a very high one, but enough for Marcia to have seen it from beyond the horizon. And rolling down that hill now, gathering speed as it came, was a massive boulder.
Heading straight for the Havelock—
Burt scrambled up out of the airlock, cursing when his trousers caught on an edge of rusted metal. He tugged at them and heard them rip. Then he was clear and running toward Marcia.
With a great grinding crashing sound the rock plowed into the Havelock, smashing it and crushing the half-corroded metal flat. Burt looked back at a big cloud of dust, and when it cleared, the Havelock looked like so much scrap. If he had been inside he would have been crushed to a pulp. Less than a pulp, they never would have found him.
"Burt! Burt—" Marcia was sobbing against his chest. "Of all the freak accidents—"