"It's like getting out of prison to get started!"

"We're not off Earth yet!" warned Jonny. "Cut the lights and drive around to the north end of the spaceport, Harb. Ease the truck to the 'Phoenix' as quietly as you can." A little later he warned, "Slower, slower. Keep to the edge of the tarmac."

Lightless, its motors a mere low rumble, the big truck crept around the dark edge of the spaceport toward the "Phoenix." The little planet-ship took black shape in the darkness, a low, torpedo bulk brooding beneath the stars. Harb backed the truck toward its side, as they jumped out of the cab.

Light flashed on them from a hand-krypton in the door of the "Phoenix!" A lean, uniformed figure stood there, gun in hand, looking at them.

"I thought you would be coming," said Ross Floring quietly. "Jonny, I'm sorry about this."

Carlin was as frozen as his companions, by the disastrous overturn of their attempt at secrecy. Floring stepped out of the ship.

"I've been looking through your ship while I waited," he said. "You have triple as much heat-screen coverage as you'd need for the Hot Side of Mercury. You were going to the Sun."

"You can't prove it, Ross," Jonny said levelly. "You've no proof."

"I've enough to prohibit this ship from clearing Earth until investigation," Floring replied. "A certain report will reach me from Canopus by morning. Then we'll see."

Carlin saw it then, saw the dark giant figure of Harb Land stealing around the truck and looming up behind Floring. He glimpsed the gleam of Harb's raised atom-pistol.

Then Harb struck. The butt of the weapon came down on Floring's head and the officer crumpled limply to the tarmac.

"See if anyone else is in the ship!" Jonny said swiftly. "Loesser, watch the Control station!"

Then he bent with Carlin over the unconscious man.

"We'll have to take him with us," Jonny said. "If we leave him here he'd soon be found, then the Control cruisers would be after us."

A few weeks before, Laird Carlin would have been aghast at seeing a semi-sacred officer of Control Operations struck down. With what spirit of reckless defiance of law had his companions infected him? He marveled at himself as he coolly picked up the limp figure.

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