I had not long to wait. In less than a quarter of an hour I heard the clatter of a pair of magnetic shoes on the steel floor and the engineer passed cheerfully by on his way to turn in. The general air of misgiving had had less effect upon him than upon anyone else. I heard the door slam behind him. I allowed him a few moments before I moved as quietly to the ventilator as my magnetic soles would allow.
I could see him quite easily. He had removed his shoes and was sitting at a small wall desk, entering the day's events in his diary. I thrust the muzzle of the pistol just within the slot of the ventilator and with the other hand began to make slight scratching noises. It was essential that he should come close to me. There must be a burn or at least powder marks.
The persistent scratching began to worry him. He glanced up in a puzzled fashion and held his head on one side, listening. I went on scratching. He decided to investigate and released the clips which held his weightless body to the chair. Without bothering to put on the magnetic shoes, he pushed himself away from the wall and came floating towards the ventilator. I let him get quite close before I fired.
There was a clatter of running feet mingling with cries of alarm. I dropped the pistol inside my shirt and jumped around the corner, reaching the cabin door just ahead of a pair who came from the other direction. We flung it open and I dashed in. Govern's body under the impetus of the shot had floated back into the middle of the room. It looked uncanny, lying asprawl in mid-air.
“Quick,” I yelled, “fetch the Captain.”
One of them pelted to the door. I managed to keep my body between the other and the corpse while I closed the dead fingers around the pistol. A few seconds later everybody had collected about the doorway and the Captain had to push them aside to get in.
He examined the body. It was not a pleasant sight. The blood had not yet ceased to flow from the wound in the head but it did not drip as it would on Earth. Instead it had spurted forth to form into red spheres, which floated freely close beside the corpse. There was no doubt that the shot had been fired at close range. The Captain looked at the outflung hand which gripped the automatic.
“What happened?”
No one seemed to know.
“Who found him?”
“I was here first, sir,” I said. “Just before the others.”
“Anyone with you when you heard the shot?”
“No, sir. I was just walking along the passage—”
“That's right, sir. We met Gratz running ‘round the corner’.” Somebody supported me.
“You didn't see anyone else about?”
“No, sir.”
“And was it possible, do you think, for anybody to have gotten out of the room unseen between the time of the shot and your arrival?”
“Quite impossible, sir. He would have been bound to walk straight into me or the others – even if there had been time for him to get out of the room.”
“Very well. Please help me with this.” He turned to the other four who were still lingering in a group near the door. “You men get back to work now.”
Two began to move off but the other pair, Willis and Trail, both mechanics, held their ground.
“Didn't you hear me? Get along there.”
Still they hesitated. Then Willis stepped forward and the Captain's unbelieving ears heard his demand that the Nuntia be turned back.
“You don't know what you're saying, man!”
“I do, sir, and so does Trail. There's something queer about it all. It's not natural for men to kill themselves like this. Perhaps we'll be next. When we signed up we knew we'd have dangers we could see but didn't reckon with something that makes you go mad and kill yourself. We don't like it – and we ain't going on. Turn the ship back.”
“Don't be a pair of fools. You ought to know that we can't turn back. What do you think this is – a rowbgat? What's the matter with you?”
The two faces in front of him were set in lines of stolid determination. Willis spoke again.
“We've had enough and that's flat. It was bad enough when two had gone but now it's three. Who's going to be the next? That's what I want to know.”
“That's what we all want to know,” said the Captain meaningly. “Why are you so anxious to have the ship turned back?”
“Because it's wrong – unlucky. We don't want to go crazy even if you do. If you don't turn her back we will.”
“So that's the way it blows, is it? Who's paying you for this?”
Willis and Trail remained uncomprehending.
“You heard me,” he roared. “Who's behind you? Who's out to wreck this trip?”
Willis shook his head. “Nobody's behind us. We just want to get out of this before we go crazy too,” he repeated.
“Went crazy, eh?” said the Captain with a sneer. “Well maybe they did and then again, maybe they didn't – and if they didn't I've got a pretty good idea what happened to them.” He paused. “So you think you'll scare me into turning back, do you? Well, by the stars, you won't, you bilge rats. Get back to your work. I'll deal with you later.”
But neither Willis nor Trail had any intention of getting back. They came on. Trail was swinging a threatening spanner. I snatched the pistol from the corpse's hands and got him in the forehead. It was a lucky shot. Willis tried to stop. I got him, too.
The Captain turned and saw me handling the pistol. The suddenness of the thing had taken him by surprise. I could see that he didn't know whether to thank me or to blame me for so summary an execution of justice. There was no doubt that the pair had mutinied and that Trail, at least, had meant murder. Strong and Danver, the two men in the doorway, stared speechlessly. Nine men had sailed in the Nuntia — four now remained.
For the time the Captain said nothing. We waited, looking at the two bodies still swaying eerily, anchored to the floor by their magnetic shoes. At last the Captain broke the silence.
“It's going to be hard work for four men,” he said. “But if each of us pulls his weight we may win through yet. To the two of you all the engine room work will fall. Gratz, do you know anything of three-dimensional navigation?”
“Very little, sir.”
“Well, you'll have to learn – and quickly.”
After the business of disposing the bodies through the airlock was finished, he led me to the navigation room. Half to himself I heard him murmur, “I wonder which it was? Trail, I should guess. He's the type.”
“Beg your pardon, sir?”
“I was wondering which of those two was the murderer.”
“Murderer, sir?” I said.
“Murderer, Gratz. I said and I mean it. Surely you didn't think those deaths were natural?”
“They seemed natural.”
“They were well enough managed but there was too much coincidence. Somebody was out to wreck this trip and kill us all.”
“I don't see—”
“Think, man, think,” he interrupted. “Suppose the secret of the Nuntia got out in spite of all our care? There are plenty of people who would want her to fail.”
I flatter myself that I managed my surprise rather well.
“Metallic Industries, you mean?”
“Yes, and others. No one knows what may be the outcome of this voyage. There are a lot of people who find the world very comfortable as it is and would like to keep it so. Suppose they had planted one of those men aboard?”
I shook my head doubtfully. “It wouldn't do. It'd be suicide. One man couldn't get this ship back to Earth.”