Henry lay against the ceiling with his legs bent, his back bowed, and his left elbow pressed against his lower ribs. Morna's hand fluttered at his pocket. "I've got--No, it's a screwdriver," she said. "Now, I've got the snips!" "Don't drop them," Henry pleaded. He thrust his feet back to the deck. "Try to cut the line around my wrist. Ow! That's my hand!" "Be brave!" Morna jeered nervously. "Now it's under the cord. I cut one!" Henry twisted his wrist in the loosened cord and pulled his left hand free. He said, "Thanks. Give me the snips." Morna said, "Promise to cut me down first. I don't want to be tied with you loose." Henry snatched the snips from her and cut the line binding his right hand. Morna said, "Gangster trick." "Hurry up, Henry," Ranjit said. "Those fellows will be coming back." Henry released Ranjit and Joachim. "Cut me loose!" Morna yelled. "Not so loud," Henry said, freeing her. "Go up in the control room, Ranjit. You told me you still had flywheel steering. If it won't hurt you, you can make them think you're decelerating. It'll confuse them, at least." "Yeah," Ranjit chuckled, "that's a bright idea. I was about to think of it myself." Henry said, "Morna, you go with Ranjit. Joachim, you stay with me, and we'll waylay them. We'll find something for weapons." Ranjit pulled the sandwich bunk down on its rods, crouched on the bunk, and pushed open the overhead hatch. Joachim said, "I do not intend to engage in a brawl with gangsters. Come, Morna, let us take our chances in our own ship. We--" "I hear them out there!" Henry said. Joachim squeaked, bounded to the bunk, and sprang through the hatch. "Bet he bumped his head," Ranjit hoped. "Up you go, Morna. Strap yourself to a couch." Morna climbed on the bunk and through the hatch. Ranjit followed, "It's a trick," Morna said. "He'll be alone with his gangster friends." "There's a set of spanner wrenches right there in the net," Ranjit said, pointing. "There's a roll of wire over yonder." He closed the hatch. * * * * * Henry raised the bunk back to the ceiling. He fumbled in the accumulation behind the netting, throwing out a case of canned beans, a one-volume encyclopedia, a bundle of papers, and a broken clock. He found the wrenches and selected a large one half a meter long. He searched again, pulled out a coil of electric cable, and stuffed it under his belt. Jumping across the compartment, he clung to the net above the door. Vicenzo and Aziz had not turned off their loudspeakers. "Nothing but tanks and ladderchutes," Vicenzo was saying. "There has to be a control room somewhere." Aziz said, "Maybe there's another door behind all the junk in there. I'll get it outta the old man."