The man shook his head. "The girl you came with burst in, demanded to know which were the tractor controls. I wouldn't tell, but she must have known, for she rayed them, and then blanked me out." The Falcon snarled a curse. "She's a _telepath_," he said. "She read your mind." He whirled to a window, peered at the rocket runway that led into the escape tube. "One ship is gone," he finished harshly. "Without a tractor to bring her back, she'll take the news straight to her father. We can't fight the IP with half-gunned ships. I'll have to run her down." "Your ship's been refueled and is ready to go. New radi-batteries are in the tractor gear." The comptroller roused himself with an effort. "You sure you're all right?" Curt asked anxiously. "I'm fine." "Then tell Schutler and Crandal where I've gone. Tell them my orders are to triple the men outfitting the ships. I'll be back as soon as I can--but no move is to be made without my okay. Understand?" "Yes, sir." The Falcon whipped about, darted from the office. He ran at top speed, fitting the dis-gun he had grabbed from a wall rack into his belt holster. He raced to the conveyor belt, slipped into a seat, flipped the control to high speed. An instant later, he was hurtling toward his cradled ship, wind sighing past his face. "Damn all women!" he thought. "Especially this one!" The walls whizzed by in a grey blur, and thirty seconds later the conveyor jarred to a bone-shaking stop. Curt flipped the safety belt aside, dashed for the small cruiser resting in the cradle. He impatiently brushed aside a slow-moving workman, stepped through the port. He closed the port entrance, screwed it shut with powerful heavings of his shoulders, then darted to the control cabin. Sinking into the seat, he automatically checked the controls. "Clear ways," he snapped into the vizi-screen, waited for the "all clear" signal. A green light flashed to his right, and he closed five stud switches in close succession. The ship lurched slightly, steadied, then fled with a rush of displaced air. The inertia gate closed behind the ship, and the entrance hole flowed open. Ahead was the empty blackness of space. The next instant, the planetoid was far behind, and speed was piling at a terrific rate. Curt was grateful then to the man who had invented the stasis force-screen, for at the initial acceleration he had achieved, he should have been dead. But with all atoms of the ship and its contents building speed at the same rate, he felt no discomfort. He bent toward the vision-port, scanned the Void with slitted eyes. Stars gleamed with a cold brightness far away. The Sun was at his back, and far to his right whirled Earth and Mars. Venus and Mercury fled their celestial ways far below and behind him.