“Ballistic’s team?”

“Yep.”

“Commander! Luna Base!” Someone called out from the door leading to the radio room, taking the commander away. Pirx stood facing Mindell, who pocketed his handkerchief and instinctively touched his swollen cheek.

Pirx could have gone on grilling him, but thinking better of it, gave him only a slight nod and ducked into the radio room. The loudspeaker was deluged with inquiries about the Albatross and the Dasher—from ships scattered in five different sectors. Finally, Luna Base had to silence everyone so it could go about unscrambling the snarl that had sprung up around sector 65 as a result of the recent ban on traffic.

The Titan’s commander could be seen sitting and writing at his desk. Suddenly the telegraph operator took off his earphones and shoved them to one side, as if they were no longer needed—at least that was how Pirx interpreted his gesture. He was on the verge of asking about the crew of the Albatross, whether anyone had managed to escape, when the operator, sensing that someone was standing behind him, raised his head and looked him straight in the eye. Without saying another word, Pirx took his leave, through the door marked STELLAR PERSONNEL ONLY.