I wanted to draw our unknown passenger out, see what they wanted, hear if they really sounded like Ellison, and learn if they were responsible for flipping the weird switch on some of the crew. But my focus right now lay behind the door Captain Glenn had locked behind him several days ago, the cargo room where the teralinguas had once been stored. I'd relieved our new dining room table of some of its nails, and luckily they were long and skinny enough to jimmy a lock, unlike my ice ...