Grant Pemberton suddenly sat in his place, all his feelings tense and alert. What awakened him in the deathly silence of a space pilot? His right hand slipped under the pillow and squeezed the handle of the gun. His firm coolness was a comforting reality.
There it was again. Tiny scratches on the door, as if someone was fumbling for a slide switch. Very quietly he sat waiting, putting his finger on the trigger. Suddenly, the scratches stopped and the panel slowly opened. A thin oblong spot flickered in corridor light outside. Grant tensed darkly.
