Englander laughed. "So they fled the beasties! Don't take your comics so seriously, George!" "Are you sure it's a comic?" Winthrop snapped back. "Ask Rabin what _he_ thinks!" And Rabin screamed-- Shocked, the memory of the little girl's hysteria strong in him, Winthrop spun toward Rabin, and found the man's dark face suddenly vacuous. Rabin's hands were spread out, clutching the table's edge. His eyes were blank, blind. "_Rabin!_" Winthrop yelled. He slapped the man's face stingingly. The dark head rocked, but the expression did not change. A doctor administered a sedative and took Rabin away, silent, stumbling in a trance provoked, it seemed, by concentrated study of pictures too vividly drawn in some extra-solar abyss of depravity. Benton Allan returned to the computers. Winthrop followed. There was much in Winthrop's mind then that he had still to rationalize. At length he whispered, "_Al_--" and it was urgent then. "There's more to the ship than we suspect. To the books, too. I'm not sure about Rabin. He may have been on the verge of a breakdown. The book may have simply contributed. I don't know. It's hard to be sure. "I'm just getting over a breakdown myself. I studied the book, and I haven't had a decent moment's rest since the ship came. But I haven't cracked. Be that as it may, there's something wrong in all this, Al. Whatever you find from this point on, let me know about it first, _please_!" Allan turned quickly from the computer, peering owlishly over his glasses. "Why, George?" He searched Winthrop's tense face. "A crazy hunch, Al. Just let me know." "I will," Allan promised. "But, damn it, man, stop giving me the creeps!" V It was nearly midnight but no one moved toward his cot. Most of those who had witnessed Rabin's collapse could not sleep. Winthrop himself felt he would never sleep again. General Hill came from the telephone. "Rabin's resting comfortably," he said. "His personal physician confirms Doctor Vigderman's suspicion that he'd been receiving psychiatric treatment. The casualty, then, is a normal one. It might have happened anywhere, any time. We can't attribute it to some baleful, alien influence." _What about the little girl?_ Winthrop was tempted to ask. _Surely there was no imbalance there?_ "Now," the general said, dismissing the tragedy of Rabin from his mind, "let's sum up. We've progressed beautifully. We have anti-gravity here, and proof that the speed of light _can_ be exceeded. Standards fully verifies Allan's findings. "Tomorrow, those most eminently qualified should try to determine how the bulkhead door may be opened. The General Staff has just ordered that it must be opened within forty-eight hours. All precautions will of course be taken to obviate damage to the ship." "How about to _us_?" Winthrop asked sharply. The general ignored him. "Now let's call it a day. You all must be as tired as I am."