Mury too sat silent and immobile for a minute or more. Then, abruptly, he inclined his universal chair far to the right, and his long frame seemed to tense oddly. His finger stabbed out one of the sparks of light. "What's that, Arliess?" The astrogator broke his silence. "A ship." "I know that well enough. What ship?" "I supposed you had examined the log. It would have told you that that's the liner _Alborak_, out of Aeropolis with a diplomatic mission for Mars." Mury shook his head regretfully. "That won't wash, Arliess. Even if you suppose her off course, no liner aspace ever carried a tenth of that drive." "I don't know what you're talking about," said Arliess. But his voice was raw and unsteady. "I'm talking about this. That ship is a warship, and it's looking for us--will intercept us inside of twenty minutes at the most!" * * * * * Arliess turned his head at last, slowly, as if the movement were painful. His dispassionate goggles regarded the telltale needles that had come quiveringly alive on the radiodetector box between them, bluntly giving the lie to the automatic chart. "You know more than I supposed," he said, and laughed unpleasantly. "But it won't do you any good now. We're to be inspected in space--a surprise of which we weren't informed until a few minutes before you came sneaking into the ship." "That's too bad," said Mury. He sounded as if he thought it was too bad. As he spoke, he leaned sidewise, to the left this time, and closed a switch, lighting a darkened panel on the board; his long forefinger selected and pressed two studs. "_Too bad_," he repeated, and picked up the flame pistol. Young Arliess exploded in another furious surge against the binding clamps, clawing with clumsy gloved hands for the release; then he quieted, and stared at the small black bore trained on him. He was trembling a little with fury. "You damned louse. Why don't you make it a clean job by giving it to me, now?" "I'll need you, now if not before," said the Panclast softly. "Your friends would have stayed alive if that warship hadn't showed its nose. You must understand that. I was forced into counter-measures." Then Ryd, squirming sidewise in his seat, understood. Those studs had controlled the outer airlocks. And now the men who had been in those locks, the young guardsman and the _Shahrazad's_ pilot and engineer--were no longer there. "You--need _me_?" Arliess was briefly incredulous. "Oh--I get it. There have to be three in the crew." Then he sprang like a tiger. But the moment in which he had thumbed the release and wrenched free of the padded clamps had been too long. Ryd flinched away--but there was no roar, no flame stabbed blue. They grappled an instant, swaying on the tilted floor--and then the pistol, reversed in Mury's hand, chopped down on Arliess' temple, a glancing blow, but fiercely struck. The astrogator let go, staggering; and the gun swung up again and felled him.