"No, it's not Serono, McHague." A tall, ragged figure, followed by a smaller one, stepped from the opening. "Hanson!" A surge of relief sounded in McHague's voice, then died out. Brian Hanson was a rebel. He fumbled vaguely for the panel of call buttons on his desk, but his hand froze as he saw the projector trained on his expansive middle. "I couldn't miss your stomach from here," Brian told him softly. "What do you want?" "I want to get to Earth and I want your private getaway ship." "I don't know anything about any ship." "It's no good, McHague. The drive tests for that ship were run in my laboratory." "There's no fuel on board. It's in no condition to fly," McHague said hopelessly. "It had better be ready to take off. Serono doesn't trust you any more than you trust him. About your only chance of living is for me to get to Earth and bring enough of the Planetary Patrol to head Serono off." "I can't help you. I'm in this with Zeburzac. If the police get him, they've got me." "You can be on our side. The way I'll tell it on Earth you were just stringing Serono along till I could get clear." McHague shook his head. "I wouldn't live for a day if I helped you. You don't know Zeburzac. His family ran Venus in the old days. He means to restore that rule with himself as absolute dictator. I wouldn't be safe even on Earth." "You'll just have to take that chance." "We're wasting time," Crystal cut in sharply anxious. "Come on." Her words brought McHague reluctantly to his feet. "I'll do it," he muttered thickly. "Come with me." * * * * * The misty gloom of a Venusian night shrouded the jungle as three figures forced their way along an almost completely overgrown trail. The lights of Venus City gleamed dimly through the night murk behind them. McHague stumbled and swore in the lead as the trail twisted down the steepness of the ridge. He came to a halt on a long, level bench. "This is the place." "I don't see anything," Crystal said doubtfully. "You didn't think I was going to leave the ship where Zeburzac could find it, did you?" McHague scrabbled around in the roots of a bush, found what he wanted, a metal lever hardly distinguishable in the tangle, and yanked it up. His action was followed by a slight vibration underfoot, a heavy, dull ripping of roots sounded in front of them as the ground parted before their eyes. Two balanced sections tilted upward, away from each other, revealing the Stygian blackness of a pit. "It's a ventilating shaft of one of the old mines. The ship's down there about two hundred feet. It's got a Nordenfeldt control panel. Can you handle it?" "Sure, but how can I get down?" "There's a ladder--but wait a minute, Hanson." McHague's heavy-jowled face was ghastly in the dim light. "You've got to play this straight, see. I'm giving you a chance and you've got to stand by me. If Serono knew I was doing this--You've got to get those police here--"