Nobody said anything at all. In a little while there was light ahead. There was brightness. Instantly, it seemed, they were out of night and there was a streaming tumult of clouds flashing past below--but they were 800 miles up now--and Joe's headphones rattled and he said: "Now we can give a touch of course-correction, and maybe a trace of speed...." Rockets droned and boomed and roared outside the hull. The Earth fell away and away and presently it was behind. And they were plunging on after the Moonship which was very, very, very far on before them. It was actually many hours before they reached it. They couldn't afford to overtake it gradually, because they had to have time to work in after contact. But overtaking it swiftly cost extra fuel, and they hadn't too much. So they compromised, and came up behind the Moonship at better than 2,000 feet per second difference in speed--they approached it as fast as most rifle-bullets travel--and all creation was blotted out by the fumes of the rockets they fired for deceleration. Then the space tug came cautiously close to the Moonship. Mike climbed out on the outside of the tug's hull, with the Chief also in space equipment, paying out Mike's safety-line. Mike leaped across two hundred yards of emptiness with light-years of gulf beneath him. His metal soles clanked on the Moonship's hull. Then the vision-screen on the tug lighted up. Lieutenant Commander Brown looked out of it, quietly grim. Joe flicked on his own transmitter. He nodded. "_Mr. Kenmore_," said Brown evenly, "_I did not contact you before because I was not certain that contact could be made. How many passengers can you take back to the Platform?_" Joe blinked at him. "I haven't any idea," he said. "But I'm going to hitch on and use our rockets to land you." "_I do not think it practicable_," said Brown calmly. "_I believe the only result of such a course will be the loss of both ships with all hands. I will give you a written authorization to return on my order. But since all my crew can't return, how many can you take? I have ten married men aboard. Six have children. Can you take six? Or all ten?_" Then he said without a trace of emphasis, "_Of course, none of them will be officers._" "If I tried to turn back now, I think my crew would mutiny," Joe said coldly. "I'd hate to think they wouldn't, anyhow! We're going to hook on and play this out the way it lies!" There was a pause. Then Brown spoke again. "_Mr. Kenmore, I was hoping you'd say that. Actually--er--not to be quoted, you understand--actually, intelligent defiance has always been in the traditions of the Navy. Of course, you're not in the Navy, Kenmore, but right now it looks like the Navy is in your hands. Like a battleship in the hands of a tug. Good luck, Kenmore._" Joe flicked off the screen. "You know," he said, winking at Mike, "I guess Brown isn't such a bad egg after all. Let's go!"