"I told him that there was a wild-eyed pirate on the loose, and that he might make a stab at the Station. We are coming in as soon as we can get there and to be on the lookout for us on the landing communications radio, and also for anything untoward in the nature of space vessels." "Then this is not exactly a shock," said Arden, waving the message from Murdoch. "Not exactly," said Channing dryly. "Now look, Arden, you go to sleep. This'll take hours and hours, and gabbing about it will only lay you out cold." "I feel fine," objected Arden. "I know, but that's the gravanol, not you. The tape will keep you intact, and the gravanol will keep you awake without pain or nausea. But you can't get something for nothing, Arden, and when that gravanol wears off, you'll spend ten times as long with one tenth of the trouble you might have had. So make it easy for yourself now and later you'll be glad that you aren't worse." The sky blackened, and Channing knew that they were free in space. Give them another fifteen minutes and the devil himself couldn't find them. With no flight plan scheduled and no course posted, they might as well have been in the seventeenth dimension. As they emerged from the thin atmosphere, there was a fleeting flash of fire from several miles to the East, but Channing did not pay particular attention to it. Arden looked through a telescope, and said that she thought that she saw a spaceship circling, but that she could not be sure. Whatever it was, nothing came of it. * * * * * The trip out to the Station was a monotonous series of uneventful hours, proceeding along one after the other. They dozed and slept most of the time, eating sparingly and doing nothing that was not absolutely necessary. Turnabout was accomplished and then the deceleration began, equally long and equally monotonous. It was equally inactive. Channing tried to plan, but it failed because he could not plan without talking and discussing the affair with his men; too much depended upon their co-operation. He fell into a morose, futile feeling that made itself evident in grousing; Arden tried to jolly him, but Don's usually bubbling spirit was doused too deep. Also, Arden herself was none too happy, and she failed to convince herself, which is necessary before one can convince anyone else of anything. Then they sighted the Station, and Channing's ill spirit left. A man of action, what he hated most was the no-action business of just sitting in a little capsule of steel waiting for the Relay Station to come up out of the sky below. Once it was sighted, Channing could foresee action, and his grousing stopped. They zipped past the Station at a distance of ten miles, and Channing opened the radio. "Walt Franks! Wake up, you slumberhead." The answer came inside of a half minute. "Hello, Don. Who's asleep?" "Where are you? In Joe's?"