"They will try and surround us," Borion said, "and blanket our magnets with their own." "That's not so good, is it?" Dynamon murmured. "What is our altitude from Earth?" "Forty miles," was the reply, "and I think they still may be able to overhear our conversation." "Let them," said Dynamon quietly, "We have no secrets from them and they may as well know that we're going to out-run them. Full speed, Borion!" The Navigator advanced the "repellor" lever as far as it would go. There was a slight jerk under foot. Then he adjusted a needle on a large dial and moved the "attractor" lever to its full distance. There was another jerk as the great Carrier lunged forward through space. Borion smiled. "I put the attractor beam on the moon," he said, "and we'll be hitting it up close to nineteen miles a second in a few minutes. We should walk away from those drops of blood, over there." "Are we pointing away from them enough?" Dynamon asked. "What's to prevent them from changing their course and cutting over to intercept us? See, that's what they appear to be doing now." The navigator peered critically at the forward periscope screens. "It may be a close shave at that," he admitted. "But please trust me, Dynamon, I'll make it past them." * * * * * The tiny red specks in the periscope screens were growing shockingly fast, indicating the frightful speed at which the Earth-Carrier was traveling. Bigger and bigger they grew under Dynamon's fascinated gaze. The centurion darted a glance at Borion. In this fantastic encounter, every second counted. Could the navigator elude the pursuing red Carriers? Borion haunched tensely over the control levers, his eyes glued to the screens. The Martian ships were as big as cigars now and tripling their size with every heartbeat. Dynamon clenched his fist involuntarily and fought down an impulse to shout a warning. That would be worse than useless now--the fate of the expedition was entirely in the hands of Borion. Dynamon held his breath as a flash of red flicked across the port bow periscope screen. The Carrier heaved under his feet for a second then quickly settled to an even keel again. The sweat stood out in little drops on Borion's forehead. "Too close for comfort," muttered the navigator. His eyes widened as another huge red shape loomed up in the starboard bow screen. Borion's hands flicked over a dial spinning a needle around. Then he hung desperately back on the repellor. There was a momentary shock. The Carrier seemed to bounce off something. Borion staggered and Dynamon hurled forward and crashed into the forward bulkhead of the control room. Then Borion shouted, "We're through!" Dynamon picked himself up off the floor with a rueful smile. "I thought we were _all_ through for a minute," he observed.