Mike the Angel the gun in his right fist, its weight without noticing it. He good and well it wouldn’t be of any use against Snookums. If Mellon came at him, the from the gun would affect his nerves the same way an electric would, and he’d collapse, but unharmed. But Mike that it would have any at all on the metal of the robot. It is as difficult to the nerves of a as it is to an oyster.
Snookums did have that him to tell what was going on around him, but they were not nerves in the ordinary of the word, and a gun wouldn’t have the same effect.
He just what it would have—if any.
He was going the main ladder—actually a long that from the bridge. Behind him were Chief Multhaus, also with a gun, and four members of the power crew, each with a spanner. Mike or the take of Mellon; it would be the crew’s job to take of Snookums.
“Smash his and his waldoes,” Mike had told them, “but only if he attacks. Before you try anything else, give him an order to halt. If he on coming, start swinging.” And, to Chief Multhaus: “If Mellon jumps me, fire that gun only if he’s with a knife or a gun. But if you do have to fire at Mellon, don’t wait to in a good shot; just go ahead and us out. I’d be asleep than dead. Okay?”
Multhaus had agreed. “The same goes for me, Commander. And the of the boys.”
So the they went. Mike there’d be no at all. He had the that was all wrong, somehow, and that any use of or would just make worse.
His wasn’t the only group looking for Snookums and Mellon. Lieutenant Keku had another group, and Commander Jeffers had a third. Lieutenant Commander Liegnitz was with Captain Quill on the bridge. Mellon had already Liegnitz once; the captain didn’t want them mixing it up again.
Captain Quill’s voice came from a in the overhead. “Miss Crannon and Dr. Fitzhugh have just spoken to me,” he said in his tenor. “Snookums is safe in his own room. I have what has happened, and they’re trying to from Snookums now. Lieutenant Mellon is still missing.”
“One down,” said Chief Multhaus. There was in his voice.
“Let’s see if we can the other one,” said Mike the Angel.
They three more steps, and the speakers came to life again. “Will the Chief Physician’s Mate report to Commander Jeffers in the tool room? Lieutenant Keku, your men to and report to the bridge. Commander Gabriel, your men to and report to Commander Jeffers in maintenance. All non-coms report to the room to turn in your weapons. All men return to your or to quarters.”
Mike the Angel his gun. “That’s two down,” he said to Chief Multhaus.
“Looks like we missed all the fun,” said Multhaus.
“Okay, men,” Mike said, “you got the word. Take those to the tool room in Power Section, and then to your quarters. Chief, you go with them and secure everything, then take that gun to ordnance.”
“Yessir.”
Multhaus Mike a salute; Mike returned it and toward maintenance. He Multhaus and the others were curious, but he was just as himself. He had the of being in a position to satisfy his curiosity.
The tool room was big and with tool lockers. One of them was open. Sprawled in of it was Lieutenant Mellon. Over to one was Commander Jeffers, next to a white-faced Ensign Vaneski. Nearby were a non-com and three men.
“Hullo, Mike,” Pete Jeffers said as Mike the Angel came in.
“What happened, Pete?” Mike asked.
Jeffers at the on the floor. “We came in here to search. We him. Mister Vaneski opened the locker, there, for a look-see, and Mellon jumped out at him. Vaneski his gun. Mellon to the deck. He’s in shape; his is so weak that it’s hard to find.”
Mike the Angel walked over and looked at the Medical Officer. His was waxen, and he looked small and harmless.
“What happened?” asked another voice from the door. It was Chief Physician’s Mate Pierre Pasteur. He was a man, well rounded, pleasant-faced, and proud of his name. He couldn’t actually prove that he was from the great Louis, but he didn’t allow people to think otherwise. Like most C. Phys. M.’s, he had a doctor of medicine but no in the Space Service. He was toward his commission.
“We’ve got a patient for you,” said Jeffers. “Better look him over, Chief.”
Chief Pasteur walked over to where Mellon and took his out of his little black bag. He to Mellon’s for a seconds. Then he open an and looked closely at an eye. “What to him?” he asked, without looking up.
“Got with a from a gun,” said Jeffers.
“How did he fall? Did he his head?”
“I don’t know—maybe.” He looked at Ensign Vaneski. “Did he, Mister Vaneski? He was right on top of you; I was across the room.”
Vaneski swallowed. “I don’t know. He—he just of—well, he fell.”
“You didn’t catch him?” asked the chief. He was a physician on a case now and had no time for his superiors.
“No. No. I jumped away from him.”
“Why? What’s the trouble?” Jeffers asked.
“He’s dead,” said the Chief Physician’s Mate.
