At the girl's direction, Gavin passed through bare offices, smelling of stale air and mildew and into a narrow corridor which led straight as an arrow into the distance in either direction. Walls, ceiling and floor radiated a pale green glow from the fungus. Gavin, who had been keeping his sense of direction with an effort, realized that the passage led towards Pit Nine. They followed it for a quarter of a mile, passing only one intersecting corridor. They turned in the second passage they met, passed along it a short distance, and came out in the maw of Pit Nine itself. They were on a balcony a hundred feet from the floor of the pit. The well below was charred black by countless jet blasts. The Nova, a dull black bullet-shaped monster, rested on its jets, towering straight up four hundred feet above them. He saw an airy gangplank sloping from the balcony to an open port in the ship. There was a glum Venusian standing guard at the gangplank. Urged along by the girl, Gavin ascended the gangplank into the ship itself. "I've heard of shanghai-ing," he remarked over his shoulder. "But this is the first case of being shanghai-ed exactly according to your wishes." Nadia said, "Captain Cabot will talk to you." She indicated an elevator and they ascended rapidly to the ship's control room. There were three men in the spacious control room: Captain Cabot, the senior astrogator, and a communications man. They faced about, stared at Gavin as the girl prodded him through the door. "I found him in the Temple of Joy," said Nadia. Cabot's glance slid over Gavin. His lean wolfish face cracked into a smile. "I haven't time to question him now—" he began, when the communications man interrupted. "He's up there!" said the communications man. "Directly overhead. But he's beyond the Heaviside layer. I can't make out his class, but he's big. Feels like a patrol ship." A frown passed across Cabot's face. He snapped on a televisor. "Engine room," came a faint voice. Cabot glanced at his watch. "Taking off in ten minutes. There's a ship above the clouds. Don't know who she is. Have all jets primed. We may have to dodge her." "Check," said the voice. "And, John," Cabot added, "I've got your third aboard. I don't care to trust him until we get beyond the thousand-mile-limit, though, so carry on for a while longer." "Check," said the voice. Cabot snapped off the televisor and turned to Nadia. "Lock Mr. Murdock in seventeen. Then report back to the bridge." "Yes sir," said Nadia. Gavin was led silently below again. He could hear the rumble of the warming jets. Nadia appeared nervous, jumpy. She wanted to get back to the bridge and an acceleration chair before the take-off, Gavin guessed. About midway down, she paused before a metal door numbered seventeen, swung it open, disclosing blackness. Gavin stepped inside.