ought about it, the more certain he was that he had
conjured those people out of his fading consciousness. There had been no
one here. He was alone in the ship's nerve center.

He approached the main control board. It was divided into ten stations.
Each section had its rows of dials, whose slender indicators pointed to
incomprehensible readings. Each had its switches, wheels rheostats, and
levers.

Barrent walked slowly past the stations, watching the patterns of
flashing lights that ran to the ceiling and rippled along the walls. The
last station seemed to be some kind of overall control for the rest. A
small screen was marked: _Coordination_, _Manual/Automatic_. The
_Automatic_ part was lighted. There were similar screens for navigation,
lookout, collision control, subspace entry and exit, normal space entry
and exit, and landing. All were automatic. Further on he found the
programming screen, which clicked off the progress of the flight in
hours, minutes, and seconds. Time to Checkpoint One was now 29 hours, 4
minutes, 51 seconds. Stop-over time, three hours. Time from Checkpoint
to Earth, 480 hours.

The control board flashed and hummed to itself, serene and
self-sufficient. Barrent couldn't help feeling that the presence of a
human in this temple of the machine was sacrilege.

He checked the air ducts. They were set for automatic feed, giving just
enough air to support the room's present human population of one.

But where was the crew? Barrent could understand the necessity of
operating a starship largely on an automatic programming system. A
structure as huge and complex as this had to be self-sufficient. But men
had built it, and men had punched out the programs. Why weren't men
present to monitor the switchboards, to modify the program when
necessary? Suppose the guards had needed more time on Omega? Suppose it
became necessary to by-pass the checkpoint and return directly to Earth?
Suppose it was imperative to change destination altogether? Who reset
the programs, who gave the ship its orders, who possessed the guiding
intelligence that directed the entire operation?

Barrent looked around the control room. He found a storage bin filled
with oxygen respirators. He put one on, tested it, and went into the
corridor.

After a long walk, he reached a door marked CREW'S QUARTERS. Inside, the
room was neat and bare. The beds stood in neat rows, without sheets or
blankets. There were no clothes in the closets