off and I'll assume mental control of your ship once you're out in space. I'd prefer that the location of my world remain a secret even to you.

Kiley shrugged. "Okay. I won't argue. I'm blasting off now."

He jabbed down on the firing stud.

The stolen spaceship sprang up into the void, and Kiley felt the alien's mental emanations enfolding him, seizing control of the ship, guiding it—just as, a month before, similar emanations had come to him in the darkness of a jail cell in the Under-Dungeon of Alpheraz VII.

They had nailed him for a bungled burglary—he'd have made it, all right, except that he hadn't foreseen one of the new-model psionic alarms—and, since he was a four-timer, they'd stuck him in solitary deep in the dank heart of the planet.

The guard, a thick-muscled Alpherazian with three cold, slitted eyes, had hurled him into the cell, thrown him sprawling against the slimy stone.

"That ought to hold you, Kiley!" the Alpherazian growled. "You've stolen your last jewel, Earthman."

"Get out of here!" Kiley said thinly. "Don't stand here and gloat. I'd be free and out of here if that crazy alarm hadn't popped off."

The guard chuckled. "Relax and cool off, Kiley. You've got plenty of time to get used to your new home."

The door clanged shut. Kiley spat in the darkness as he heard the bolt slipping home—the unbreakable, foolproof bolt of the escape proof Alpheraz jail. And then—

How would you like to be free in five minutes? a voice asked.

"Huh? Who's there?" Kiley looked around, narrowing his eyes to see in the foggy blackness, but there was no one within sight.

Don't strain your eyes, the voice said—and Kiley realized it was an unspoken voice in his mind. I'm a thousand light-years away. The name is Thaklaru.

"Who are you? What are you?"

That doesn't concern you. I need your professional services, and I have a proposition to make.

"Go ahead," Kiley said, mystified.

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