Then there was the music. And Miles dancing with Carol. More music. More drinks until Bert lost count. But he didn't care. This was sweet, the toasting of a wake, the perfect crime, a sadly wonderful occasion. Music. He danced with Carol. He stared at her with clouding eyes, aching inside, a terrible pain that wouldn't be stilled by anything except another drink. He had one. And another. Miles and Jeff talking together. Pointing at him. He laughed to himself. They were concerned over his getting drunk. They were concerned over _him_! That was a hot one. One for the books. One for another drink.... It was hot and giddy. The room was a glorious pool of laughter, savage brutal laughter inside Bert's mind. Carol, Miles. Jeff Morrow talking to them, nodding. Bert knew what they were telling Jeff. Wisps of their conversation came to him from where he half-reclined on the couch. Jeff would be his nurse-maid. Jeff would see to it that he was put aboard the _Space Queen II_ in one soggy, drunken heap. Jeff would strap him to his bunk. Good old Jeff. Good old efficient Jeff. And good old considerate and concerned Miles.... Miles who was as good as dead right now. Music, time, liquor, they passed in a montage of fragrant clouds. Bert was aware that Carol kissed him lightly on the cheek as Jeff helped him to his feet and to the door. He was aware of Miles slapping him on the back and calling to Jeff. "Take care of Bert, Jeff. We want him on Deimos for the contract and wedding!" And Jeff assuring them he would. Good old Jeff. * * * * * Fog and pressure. Roaring sound that deafened his ears. Pressure that pushed him back, back, flattened his flesh tight against his bones. Pain in his head that wanted surcease with oblivion, but the pressure and roaring sound pushed the pain back, kept his consciousness aware, dimly, but aware. And then the pressure began to ease. With the easing came a sobering effect to his alcohol-clouded brain. He became aware of his surroundings. The roar and pressure. Rocket thrust to escape velocity. A space ship. It began to come clear now. No more music, no more drinks, no more smiling faces of Miles and Carol. Jeff taking him to the door.... Where then? The _Space Queen II_. Of course. Good old Jeff. Nursemaid Jeff. Bundling him off to Deimos to sign a contract and be best man at a wedding. Consciousness returned to Bert Tanner and he laughed as he pushed against the restraining straps that held him to the grav bunk. Wedding? There would be no wedding. The bride and groom would never show up! He laughed loud and long. Then he stopped laughing. There was something wrong. Something he must find out about. He felt it. No, that wasn't it, he didn't _feel_ it, he _saw_ it.... This grav bunk--the control room. The _Space Queen II_. Something wrong--something....