"Ugly thing," he said casually. Banning shrugged. The psychiatrist turned away from the window and sat down again. He began to fill his pipe. "Where is he now?" he asked. "In the ship," the general told him. "What's he doing?" Banning laughed bitterly. "Broadcasting a distress signal." "Voice?" "Does it matter?" the general asked. "I don't know." "No, it's code. It's an automatic tape. The kind all passenger vessels carry." Colin considered this for a moment. "And he didn't say anything." "Absolutely nothing," said General Banning. "He got out of the ship, walked over to the reception committee, slapped a few people and ran back to the ship and locked himself in." "It doesn't make any sense." "You're telling me?" After a second the general added almost wistfully, "He knocked Senator Gilroy down." Colin laughed. "Good for him." "Yeah," the general agreed. "That bastard fought us tooth and nail all the way down the line, cutting appropriations, taking our best men.... Then when we get a ship back, he's the first in line for the newsreels." Colin looked up. "You have newsreels?" "Sure, but I don't think they're processed yet." "Why didn't you tell me that in the first place? Check them, will you?" The general made a short phone call. When he hung up he looked embarrassed. "You want to see them?" "Very much." "There's a viewing room in Building Three," Banning said. "We can walk." * * * * * When the lights had come on again, Colin sat staring at the blank screen for a long time. Finally he sighed, stood and stretched. "Well," Banning said. "What do you think?" "I'll want to see it again. But it's pretty clear, I think." The general looked up in surprise. "Clear? It's just the same thing I told you." "Oh, no," Colin said. "You left out the most important part." "What was that?" "Your boy is blind and deaf." "Blind and deaf! You're crazy. The ship, he looked at the ship, and the microphone, and...." "Oh, it's pretty selective blindness," Colin said. He filled his pipe with maddening slowness and lit it before he spoke again. "People," he said finally. "He doesn't see people. At all." * * * * * Harkins fell asleep leaning forward in the control chair with his head on his arms. When he wakened, the sky outside the viewport was turning dark. With a sense of sudden danger, he clamped down the metal shutters over the port. Methodically he climbed down catwalks the length of the ship, making certain all ports were secured both from entry and from sight. He didn't want to see outside. When he had done this, he felt easier. Walking to the galley, he put a can of soup in the heater, and took it back up to the control room with him.