Still, it wasn't much. If only he had a flashlight!

From a distance, far down the companionway, he could hear voices. The
muffled sound that had awakened him had been the soft susurration of the
door as it had slid open when the power died. Without the electrolocks
to hold it closed, it had opened automatically. The doors in a spaceship
are built that way, to make sure no one will be trapped in case of a
power failure.

Mike dressed in a matter of seconds and headed toward the door.

And stopped just before he stepped out.

Someone was outside. Someone, or--something.

He didn't know _how_ he knew, but he knew. He was as certain as if the
lights had been on bright.

And whoever was waiting out there didn't want Mike the Angel to know
that he was there.

Mike stood silent for a full second. That was long enough for him to get
angry. Not the hot anger of hatred, but the cold anger of a man who has
had too many attempts on his life, who has escaped narrowly from an
unseen plotter twice because of pure luck and does not intend to fall
victim to the dictum that "the third time's a charm."

He realized that he was still holding the glowing cigarette lighter in
his hand.

"Damn!" he muttered, as though to himself. "I'd forget my ears if they
weren't sewed down." Then he turned, heading back toward his bed, hoping
that whoever was waiting outside would assume he would be back
immediately. At the same time, he lifted his thumb off the lighter's
contact.

Then he sat down on the edge of his bed and quickly pulled off his
boots. Holding them both in his hands, he moved silently back to the
door. When he reached it, he tossed both boots to the rear of the room.
When they landed clatteringly, he stepped quietly through the door. In
three steps he was on the opposite side of the corridor. He hugged the
wall and moved back away from the spot where the watcher would be
expecting him.

Then he waited.

He was on one side of the door to his stateroom, and the--what or
whoever it was--was on the other. Until that other made a move, Mike the
Angel would wait.

The wait seemed many minutes long, although Mike knew it couldn't have
been more than forty-five seconds or so. From other parts of the ship he
could hear voices shouting as the crewmen and officers who had been
sleeping were awakened by the men on duty. The ship could not sustain
life long if the air conditioners were dead.

Then, quite suddenly, the waiting w