Snow turned around, nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “except for me there’s no one around for the moment. You’ll have to make do with my company for today. Call me Ratface; don’t argue. You know me by my photograph, just imagine we’re old friends. Everyone calls me Ratface, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Obstinately, I repeated my question:

“Where is Gibarian?”

He blinked again.

“I’m sorry to have received you like that. It’s… it’s not exactly my fault. I had completely forgotten… A lot has been happening here, you see…”

“It’s all right. But what about Gibarian? Isn’t he on the Station? Is he on an observation flight?”

Snow was gazing at a tangled mass of cables.

“No, he hasn’t left the Station. And he won’t be flying. The fact is….”

My ears were still blocked, and I was finding it more and more difficult to hear.

“What? What do you mean? Where is he then?”

“I should think you might guess,” he answered in a changed voice, looking me coldly in the eyes. I shivered. He was drunk, but he knew what he was saying.

“There’s been an accident?”

He nodded vigorously, watching my reactions closely.

“When?”

“This morning, at dawn.”

By now, my sensations were less violent; this succinct exchange of questions and answers had calmed me. I was beginning to understand Snow’s strange behavior.

“What kind of accident?”

“Why not go to your cabin and take off your spacesuit? Come back in, say, an hour’s time.”