Then he wondered what difference it made, if they were to go on and on? Channing had a rough idea of what had happened. He knew something about the conditions under which they had been traveling, how long, and in what direction. It staggered him, the figures he calculated in his mind. It behooved him to do something. He bumped an inert figure and grabbed. One hand took the back of the head and came away wet and sticky. Channing retched, and then threw the inert man from him. He coasted back against a wall, and caught a handrail. Hand-over-hand he went to the door and into the hall. Down the hall he went to the passengers' elevator shaft, and with no thought of what his action would have been on any planet, Channing opened the door and dove down the shaft for several decks. He emerged and headed for the sick ward. He found the doctor clinging to his operating table with his knees and applying a bandage to one of his nurses' head. "Hello, Doc," said Channing. "Help?" "Grab Jen's feet and hold her down," snapped the doctor. "Bad?" asked Don as he caught the flailing feet. "Seven stitches, no fracture," said the doctor. "How's the other one?" "Unconscious, but unharmed. Both asleep in bed, thank God. So was I. Where were--? You're Channing; all doped up with gravanol and adhesive. Thank yourself a god for that one, too. I'm going to need both of my nurses, and we'll all need you." "Hope I can do some good," said Don. "You'd better. Or any good I can do will be wasted. Better start right now. Here," the doctor produced a set of keys, "these will unlock anything on the ship but the purser's safe. You'll need 'em. Now get along and do something and leave the body-mending to me. Scram!" "Can you make out all right?" "As best I can. But you're needed to get us help. If you can't, no man in the Solar System can. You're in the position of a man who can not afford to help in succoring the wounded and dying. It'll be tough, but there it is. Get cutting. And for Heaven's sake, get us two things: light and a floor. I couldn't do more than slap on tape whilst floating in air. See you later, Channing, and good luck." The nurse squirmed, groaned, and opened her eyes. "What happened?" she asked, blinking into the doctor's flashlight. "Tell you later, Jen. Get Fern out of her coma in the ward and then we'll map out a plan. Channing, get out of here!" Channing got after borrowing a spare flashlight from the doctor. He found Hadley up in the instrument room with a half dozen of his men. They were a mass of minor and major cuts and injuries, and were working under a single incandescent lamp that had been wired to the battery direct by means of spare cable. The wire went snaking through the air in a foolish, crooked line, suspended on nothing. Hadley's gang were applying first aid to one another and cursing the lack of gravity. "Help?" asked Channing. "Need it or offer it?" asked Hadley with a smile. "Offer it. You'll need it."