He sat up with amazement at my wild-eyed appearance, and the ash jarred from his cigar.
“Gregg! What in the devil––”
I tried to grin. “I’m on my way to bed––worked all night helping Snap with those damn Earth messages.”
I went past him, out the door into the main interior corridor. It was the only way the invisible prowler could have gone. But I was too late now––I could hear nothing. I dashed forward into the main lounge. It was empty, dim and silent, a silence broken presently by a faint click––a stateroom door hastily closing. I swung and found myself in a tiny transverse passage. The twin doors of A 22 and A 20 were before me.
The invisible eavesdropper had gone into one of these rooms! I listened at each of the panels, but there was only silence within.
The interior of the ship was suddenly singing with the steward’s siren––the call to awaken the passengers. It startled me. I moved swiftly away. But as the siren shut off, in the silence I heard a soft, musical voice:
“Wake up, Anita––I think that’s the breakfast call.”
And her answer: “All right, George. I hear it.”