SLEEP DRAGGED AT HIM. Sleep, urgent and powerful. So powerful that it seemed like an outside force gripping his mind. His hands relaxed on the panel edge.
"Falken," said Sheila Moore. "Eric Falken!"
Some steely thing in her voice lashed him erect again. She crouched on the shelf bunk against the wall, her feral green eyes blazing, her thin body taut in its torn green silk.
"You've got to get away, Falken. You've got to escape."
He had stopped laughing. "Why?" he asked dully.
"We need you, Falken. You're a legend, a hope we cling to. If you give up, what are we to go on?"
She rose and paced the narrow deck. Paul Avery watched her from the bunk on the opposite wall, his amber eyes dull with the deep weariness that slackened his broad young body.
Falken watched her, too. The terrible u
