He tracked the beam in desperate silence. Wrecks flashed by, tumbling slowly in their web of mutual gravitation. Some were molten silver if the wan sunlight caught them. Some were black, but every rivet, every seam was distinct. The impossible clarity of blackest space....
"Ralph?" Her voice came suddenly.
"Yes, Diane. Yes. What is it?"
"What a curious thing. I stopped blasting at the port hole. I'm not going in that way. The airlock, Ralph."
"What about the airlock?"
"It opened up on me. It swung out into space, all of a sudden. I'm going in, Ralph."
Fear, unexpected, inexplicable, gripped him. "Don't," he said. "Wait for me."
"That's silly, Ralph. We barely have time. I'm going in now, Ralph. There. I'm closing the outer door. I wonder if the pressure will build up for me. If it doesn't, I'll blast the outer door with my rockets and get out of here.... Ralph! The light's blinking. The pressures building. The inner door is beginning to open, Ralph. I'm going inside now."
He was still tracking the beam. He thought he was close now, a hundred miles perhaps. A hundred miles by suit rocket was merely a few seconds but somehow the fear was still with him. It was that skeleton, he thought. That skeleton had unnerved him.