"What?" * * * * * "You heard me. I want to go up in the _Cosmos XII_ right now, tests or no tests. Ground me--and I'll never have a chance again. Don't you think I'm hep to that?" "We'll see that you're not grounded," broke in Colonel Sagen, from behind his desk. But Lance didn't believe him. "Don't try to kid me, colonel," he snapped out. "You write me out flight orders for the _Cosmos XII_, or I'll blab everything I know. You can't hang me, you can't tear my tongue out--and I know I'll bust out of your guardhouse one way or another! You'll see! And then, how will you fill up your precious training classes? Then, how will you get new chumps to pilot your ships to the stars? The stars! Ha, ha! That's the biggest joke of all!" Colonel Sagen began to splutter. Lance, watching him carefully, decided there wasn't much resemblance between the old boy and the fine Colonel Sagen he'd known in his own world. Maybe it'd been having the softening influence of normal family life and a growing daughter that had made old Hard-Head human. "You'll never get away with this," Sagen warned. "We're three against one." "Won't I?" Lance's hand darted inside his shirt. "Maybe this'll equalize us." He brought out the pistol he'd taken off the captain in the guardhouse. Sagen, Nordsen, and Carmody backed off from it. "The _Cosmos XII_ is still two-thirds fueled," Lance said. "And well-stocked on provisions. Besides, I'm a light eater in hyperspace--as who isn't? I intend to take that ship out again, and you're going to help me, gentlemen." Lance flicked off the safety and waved the gun back and forth, to demonstrate what he meant. * * * * * It worked. Lance got his ship, using Colonel Sagen as both shield and go-between after he had first tied up the other two officers in a closet. He kept a close watch, of course, for the SSP's and their gas pellets; but apparently an alarm was not raised soon enough for the base police to hurl into action. After having the colonel authorize a space clearance for him by contacting Traffic directly over the ship's mike, Lance finally released him. The colonel scooted down the ladder. Lance gave him time to clear the pad, but little more; then he went to work pushing buttons on the manual desk. The _Cosmos XII_ blasted loose from her moorings and soared aloft into space. At five thousand miles above Earth's surface, Lance re-checked his tapes. Groombridge 34 was the only possible destination the autopilot could take him to. Somehow, he didn't mind taking one more look at the double-star system. He cut into hyperspace as quickly as he dared; then sat back and relaxed. That is, as much as any man could in hype.