"Damn the captain!" Craig said. "We want to know." "I understand that," George answered. "But we got orders not to talk. Wait until we've been cleared. We'll give you the whole story." "But that means you'll have to go to Earth first and we'll get all the information second hand," Mary protested. The man spread his hand. "Sorry, I didn't make the rules." The staff of the station became quite indignant when it became obvious that they were not going to get any information from the crew. "You might try making love to one of them," Craig said, in exasperation, to Mary. "I might at that," she answered. "They all look kind of cute to me." "Then try making love to all of them," Craig said bitterly. "They'd probably like it. It's been twenty years since they saw a woman. You'd have the time of your life." "Kindly restrict your allusions," Mary snapped, coloring. Craig grinned. "You're a bio-physicist. None of the facts of life are supposed to be allusions to a bio-physicist." "I'll think it over," Mary said, darkly. "Where's old Adam March?" Craig said suddenly. "Have you seen him?" "Not since the ship landed," Mary answered. "He was up in the front line cheering himself hoarse. Why?" "For years he has been asking about the _Andromeda_. From the interest he took in the ship you would think he owned it. Now the ship has arrived, but he's not here taking part in the celebration." Mild concern rose in him as he sensed something wrong in the old man's absence. "I'm going to find him." Asking questions, he discovered no one had seen Adam March. He went directly to the old man's quarters. The door was closed. He rapped. There was no answer. He tried the knob. The door was locked. "Who is it?" a voice quavered from inside. "Craig Randall. Open up." There was a moment's hesitation, then the door opened a crack. March peered through the opening. It seemed to Craig that the old man had aged years in hours. He had a heavy monkey wrench in one hand. "What's wrong?" Craig said. "The _Andromeda_ is in?" The old man opened the door. "Come in," he said. "Yes, the _Andromeda_ is in. That's what's wrong." "What?" March gestured in the direction of the hangar. "There's something wrong in that ship." "Why do you say that?" "I have my reasons." "But what makes you think so? What proof? If you know what you are talking about--" March recoiled at the words. "I knew you would think I did not know what I was talking about." "I'm sorry, Adam, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. But you've got to have some proof." He hesitated, as a sudden thought struck him. "Or ... maybe you ought to drop in on one of the station doctors in the morning. Maybe you've got a touch of space sickness. You've been here on Pluto pretty long." The old man recoiled even more. He clutched the wrench. "Leave me alone, Craig," he said harshly. "Go away from me. I don't want to talk to you."