They started down the corridor, after Lindquist said, "You've had a hard day. I think we'd better let you sleep."
"She told you someone wanted to kill you?" Captain Larkin said, shaking his head slowly. "What can we do, Lindquist?"
"Well, we just better hope whatever's causing this sort of thing is left behind in space soon. Goodnight Mr. Taine."
"Goodnight, Lazarus," said Captain Larkin.
Eric recognized at once the great hall in which he had danced that last night with Clair. Now Clair was gone.
The place was crowded—probably the ship's entire population. Lindquist led him through the crowd, and he could not tell what their faces showed. There were mumblings of "Lazarus" and "king"—but why did he get the faint suggestion of mockery? Oddly, what Laurie said had troubled him—he had had a bad night's sleep, and it left him irritable. Poor girl. He wondered how many more there were like her. Well, in time he could find out, after this nuisance of a coronation had become history.
"Ah, Taine," Captain Larkin said as Lindquist brought him to the dais. "As you can see, all the people are ready. I hope you won't think the ceremony foolish. Are you ready?"
Eric nodded, watched a man raise trumpet to lips, blow one clarion note. A hush fell over the hall.
"I am honored to present King Lazarus Seven to you," Larkin proclaimed in a loud clear voice. "He has been sent, as you know, by the planners."