e report to Commander Jeffers in
the maintenance tool room? Lieutenant Keku, dismiss your men to quarters
and report to the bridge. Commander Gabriel, dismiss your men to
quarters and report to Commander Jeffers in maintenance. All chief
non-coms report to the ordnance room to turn in your weapons. All
enlisted men return to your posts or to quarters."

Mike the Angel holstered his stun gun. "That's two down," he said to
Chief Multhaus.

"Looks like we missed all the fun," said Multhaus.

"Okay, men," Mike said, "you got the word. Take those spanners back to
the tool room in Power Section, and then get back to your quarters.
Chief, you go with them and secure everything, then take that stun gun
back to ordnance."

"Yessir."

Multhaus threw Mike a salute; Mike returned it and headed toward
maintenance. He knew Multhaus and the others were curious, but he was
just as curious himself. He had the advantage of being in a position to
satisfy his curiosity.

The maintenance tool room was big and lined with tool lockers. One of
them was open. Sprawled in front of it was Lieutenant Mellon. Over to
one side was Commander Jeffers, standing next to a white-faced Ensign
Vaneski. Nearby were a chief non-com and three enlisted men.

"Hullo, Mike," Pete Jeffers said as Mike the Angel came in.

"What happened, Pete?" Mike asked.

Jeffers gestured at the sprawled figure on the floor. "We came in here
to search. We found him. Mister Vaneski opened the locker, there, for a
look-see, and Mellon jumped out at him. Vaneski fired his stun gun.
Mellon collapsed to the deck. He's in bad shape; his pulse is so weak
that it's hard to find."

Mike the Angel walked over and looked down at the fallen Medical
Officer. His face was waxen, and he looked utterly small and harmless.

"What happened?" asked another voice from the door. It was Chief
Physician's Mate Pierre Pasteur. He was a smallish man, well rounded,
pleasant-faced, and inordinately proud of his name. He couldn't actually
prove that he was really descended from the great Louis, but he didn't
allow people to think otherwise. Like most C. Phys. M.'s, he had a
doctor of medicine degree but no internship in the Space Service. He was
working toward his commission.

"We've got a patient for you," said Jeffers. "Better look him over,
Chief."

Chief Pasteur walked over to where Mellon lay and took his stethoscope
out of his little black bag. He listened to Mellon's chest for a few