Bert made his way to the control room in the nose of the ship. He switched on the overhead light and glanced around. Everything was in order. But then, Jeff was a very thorough man. The best. Bert put the papers he carried on the forward grav bunk and strode over to the control panel. Thoughts pounded in his head. It would be easy. So very easy. And foolproof. Jeff had said escape velocity thrust for ten minutes, space drive cut in at thirty minutes. That was the critical point. At cut in the catalytic agents joined with the rocket fuels to produce free space acceleration. A tricky business, but not for the auto-pilot. If the catalytic agents were cut in on escape velocity thrust, say between ten and twenty-five minutes after blastoff, the whole chemical firing balance would be thrown out of adjustment. That had happened before--before the days of the auto-pilot. In those days men had died in space. Their ship blown to a million pieces in the void as the unbalanced fuel mixture reacted with catalytic agents. A nasty way to die, but in a way merciful. The clumsy spaceman who miscalculated never knew what happened. The auto-pilot had taken the risk out of space flight. It was now going to send Miles Berendt and Carol Grant to their death. Bert went to work quickly, expertly. He snapped the latch lock of the control panel and laid bare the workings of the auto-pilot. A few simple adjustments, not discernible to anybody but an expert--_if_ he were looking for something wrong. And then Bert was finished. He locked the control panel and smiled grimly. Twenty minutes after blastoff the firing mixture would go out of balance as the catalysts cut in prematurely. There would be a hellish blast of flame and nothing but atoms floating in the void. The atoms of Miles Berendt and Carol Grant. He would make sure of that final step in a little while. * * * * * "Miles, I've come to apologize for acting like a damned fool. I don't know what else to say, except that if you and Carol will forgive me I'll do anything to make up for it." Bert blurted the words out as he stood inside the doorway of Miles Berendt's apartment staring bravely at Miles and Carol, guilt and contrition on his face. "I won't blame you if you kick me out, but I'm sorry, and I'd like to toast your engagement and wish you both the best...." It was Carol who came around Miles and took Bert Tanner's hand firmly in hers. "Oh, Bert, I knew you would come! I'm so happy--Miles is too, aren't you darling?" Miles looked for a long moment at Bert's chastened face. Then he grinned and clasped his partner's hand. "Of course! Bert, you sure had me worried for awhile. I couldn't figure it out--but hell, man, I know the strain you've been under worrying about the Deimos contract and the _Viking_. Come on in. By God we'll have a real party now!" Bert grinned and returned the firm handclasp.