The jetman and master mechanic stood their regular four-hour watches, but Gavin went unrelieved. He spent the first twelve hours examining the Nova's space drive. He could discover nothing extraordinary about it. It was capable of driving the slave ship at an acceleration of five G's, but several of the latest model Terran patrol spacers were able to do as well. It left him completely mystified. No great damage had been done the Nova, but, besides sundry fractured arms, legs, and ribs, seven men had been killed outright. The chief engineer was recovering from a light case of concussion. Gavin was the only qualified engineer aboard able to stand watch. He drank gallons of coffee during the next twelve hours, trying desperately to stay awake. He brooded over the fact that with one dead engineer and another laid up with a fractured leg, he and the chief would have to stand four on and four off during the entire twelve sidereal months, which was the minimum time required to make the crossing between Venus and Jupiter. At the conclusion of thirty-four hours, Gavin was groggy with fatigue. His eye-lids felt like sandpaper. He was irritable as a bear. He cursed the jetman and master mechanic whenever they failed to jump fast enough at the rasp of his voice. His chin dropped against his chest. He snapped his head up, realizing he'd been asleep on his feet, and glanced at the chronometer. He had been on watch for thirty-seven hours. Someone tapped his shoulder. Gavin swung around and rubbed his blood-shot eyes. A small wiry man with his head swathed in bandages had descended the ladder without Gavin's hearing him. "I'm Villanowski," said the man in a cultured voice. "Chief engineer. Sorry I couldn't relieve you sooner." Gavin shook hands, feeling an almost uncontrollable urge to throw himself on the deck and sleep. He repeated the course and their acceleration mechanically. "Go on to your cabin," the chief urged. "Get a good sleep. We'll have to stand four hours on and four off the rest of the voyage, but it'll only be two weeks." "Two weeks!" Gavin echoed. "But that's impossible, sir." His fatigued brain grasped at the puzzle confusedly and then came up with an answer. "We're turning back to Venus?" "No." Villanowski shook his head. "We're going on to Jupiter." "But that's a twelve month voyage." The chief patted his shoulder. "You haven't heard of the little death," he smiled. "Little death?" Villanowski nodded. "Never mind trying to understand now. You're out on your feet, Murdock. I'll explain after you've had some rest. But take my word for it. We'll be setting the Nova down on Jupiter in two weeks." Gavin staggered to his cabin in bewilderment. He threw himself on his bunk without even bothering to remove his shoes. He thought, Little death! Jupiter in two weeks! That crack on the skull must have affected the chief engineer's mind! Then sleep descended on him like a shroud. V