For the nineteenth days after leaving of "Boy" Michael Antonovich felt badly. He has woken up from sounds of someone's
voice and, having jumped from a cot, long peered into cabin twilight, yet has not understood at last that it was its own voice.
The head seemed terribly heavy, pricked in thousand needles in finger-tips. Again it wanted to lie down. It has dozed off for a
short while and, having woken up, has found a thermometer.
Has checked up temperature. It has appeared normal.
"Rise, podymajsja the working people..." - it has started singing false and has suddenly thought that always sings in the
mornings this song, if feels badly to deceive vigilance of the wife, and that never he had not to sing it on expeditions yet.
What can be worse - to be ill now, all alone, in the empty ship? It has forced itself to rise and, adhering to a hand for edges of
steel frames in a corridor, has passed in cabin, has sat down about a radio transmitter.
"Boy" did not answer.
- It is necessary to be aired, - Michael Antonovich has aloud told. - I am sick, it is necessary to be aired.
Uncertain steps it has passed along a corridor, has stopped before a cabin where were stored spetskostjumy. Has looked
back: soft light matte spheres of lamps shone, on heavy metal walls still brown stains - traces of a red mould, three weeks
ago pronikshej in planetolet here and there darkened.
Hands shivered, and spetskostjum has slipped out fingers, with a whistling rustle having fallen to a floor. Bending down
behind it, Michael Antonovich suddenly has almost physically felt the pressing silence which has hidden in empty corridors
and cabins, - silence of expectation, silence of loneliness.
- Upward, upward, to be aired... - the navigator muttered, pulling a suit.
It has reached the top caisson hardly. The helmet lay on shoulders unusually hard, hands with effort have opened the hatch.
During last instant he somehow ranodushno has thought that does improbable nonsense, having got into a caisson in such
condition, but the thought has floated inertly and has disappeared. The hatch has leant back, and Michael Antonovich has
more likely fallen, than has leant the elbows on edge of a wide aperture.