Vinson sought controls for the auto-pilot, but found none. Then, with a sour face, he inserted his bar in among the glowing tubes in the auto-pilot and rammed hard. Tubes burst with loud pops and the auto-pilot went inert. He took over in the empty co-pilot's seat and turned the plane around. Vinson shook his head, laughed. Instead of humans swearing about a lack of light, making repair necessary, he had energized a rather complex repair machine that came with mechanical disregard for strategy. This automatic plane required no illumination for its mechanical crew; it was fortunate for him that machines do not think. _Now_, he exulted, _I can go back home and go to work._ * * * * * From her porthole, Narina Varada saw the rest of the small fleet of thieving ships spread out for safety during the passage across the ocean. Hour after hour they went, and it became dark. Narina was offered food from the same sort of a slot in the wall as had served Harry Vinson. That, of course, she didn't realize, for she didn't know Harry Vinson--yet. But she did realize that the convoy of ships was heading from her country across the ocean. She wondered dully why they were stealing both the big machine and its most competent technician. The combination of horror and a sense of the utter futility of coping with the situation dazed Narina; finally she fell asleep. Morning came and again the slot opened and food came into her cabin. Narina awoke, noted it dully, and made no move toward it. Hunger seemed quite secondary; eating was necessary to maintain life and Narina preferred death to her immediate future. The slot opened again after a time and the tray was withdrawn. A few moments later, the lock snicked and the door opened. A machine trundled in quietly. It inspected her with twin girders that felt her pulse and her forehead. Narina permitted this, but she was nauseated at the feel of cold metal. She sneered; how like them to make machines to do their dirty work for them! The machine retracted its girders, and from a small speaker on the front, said, "You may have the freedom of the ship; please understand that you are an honored guest and not a craven prisoner." "Why not meet me face to face!" snapped Narina. "I cannot, yet," came the reply. "But if you will not attempt self-destruction, you may go where you please." "I prefer to remain here." "As you wish. However, the door will not be locked again." The machine backed out of the door and closed it gently. There was no snick of the lock. Narina tried it, found it open, then wondered whether she could barricade the door against her captors. There was no one; she slammed the door angrily and threw herself across the bed once more.