A light flared as the old man struck a match. He was down on his knees against the far bulkhead. The match went out. Adam grunted. Metal scraped in the darkness, thudded on the floor. A square opening was revealed. Dim light came through it. Grunting with satisfaction, Adam crawled through it. "Come on, you two," his voice came from the other side. They crawled through the opening and found themselves in what was obviously one of the main holds. Adam March, the monkey wrench gripped firmly in his hand, grinned at them. "How did you know that opening was there?" Craig demanded. "I kind of sensed it would be there." "Sensed, hell! It strikes me that you know a devil of a lot about the _Andromeda_. You knew how to get through a discharge port. You knew where this opening was." The old man blinked guileless eyes at him. "Do I? I'm just lucky, I guess. We've got to figure out what we're going to do next." "We'll get out of the ship and go straight to General Stanton," Mary said. "And what will we do when we get to the general?" Craig asked. "Tell him about Filo and the Sorodromes? We'll get our heads examined by the station doctors. By the time they have finished with us, the ship will be gone. If anything is to be done, it has to be done right now." "Why not let the ship go?" Mary argued. "All they've got is Nuoy and we can sure stand to part with him." "And have the Sorodromes come back at us, later, with all his power on their side? Think again, Mary." "But surely the general--" "I'm afraid Craig's about right, Mary," old Adam interposed. "The general is not a bad guy and he's not thick-headed, but he would need some kind of evidence, something in the way of proof, before he would believe any story we told him." "The evidence is in an alcove just inside the main lock. I can point it out to him." "Yes, but who's going to pry Filo out of there?" Craig answered. "I've got a hunch that Filo is not exactly helpless. If we break in on him, all hell may break loose." * * * * * The door of the hold opened. A voice ordered, "Dump those boxes in here, men." They moved as if they had one mind, taking refuge behind the remnants of stores that were still in the hold. Directed by a member of the crew, a file of men entered, dumped their loads and trotted out. "Grab a box," Craig whispered. "We'll walk out of here. If anybody questions us, we're stowing cargo." Each carrying a box, no one challenged them. "I want to go to the main control room," Adam whispered. "I've got an idea." "Do you know the way?" "Sure. Follow the ramps up." The old man moved with a sure stride toward an inclined runway. They followed. Again Craig was struck with the realization that Adam was very familiar with the ship. He led them upward as if he knew exactly where he was going.